Latin Fire
by Dr. Hillary Sacville Bahg
Summary: It is about time Loki grew up. If exile worked for Thor, then maybe it can work for Loki as well. If a woman helped Thor, maybe a woman can help Loki as well.
1. Chapter 1

**I am a music education student who works at a newspaper as an investigative journalist. This is my first attempt writing something like this. Reviews are appreciated but not necessary. This story is set three years after the Avengers movie. I have been reading Thor comics since I was a child and it is just easier to model it after the simplified storyline. I do realize that this is one of many "Loki gets sent to earth" stories, but earth is the only planet I have ever lived on and therefor the only planet I can relate to. Besides that, in the comic, Loki spent most of his time in banishment anyway.**

**Disclaimer: I own no Marvel characters, but all other characters are mine and I will defend them like a bulldog.**

Lovisa Anita Guadalupe De La Garza had never been a lazy person. Quite the contrary, she began her first job at fourteen and had not been unemployed since, but as she watched the clock count down until five, she couldn't help wishing it would speed up.

"…and that is why my family desperately needs this loan Ms. De La Garza."

Her eyes immediately refocused on the man in front of her. Thank goodness the clock was located on the wall behind his head; maybe he hadn't noticed her momentary lapse in professionalism.

"Of course the bank would love to help you Mr. –, "her eyes flicked to the sheet in her hands, "Edwards, but there is the small detail that your wife in unemployed and you are only bringing in an estimated twenty six thousand a year." The look on the man's face broke her heart and a war began to wage within her. 'Give him the loan and you may as well quit' one voice said. 'Deny him the loan and his three children will surely starve' said the other. She needed to be employed, but this man needed the money more.

"But you do have three children and have always been in good standing with this bank, so I will approve the loan on one condition," Lovisa said. The man's face was desperate.

"Anything!" Mr. Edwards replied.

"Your wife needs steady employment. It just so happens that the University I attended is looking for help in the custodial department. She may use me as a reference to obtain the position."

"Bless you!" Mr. Edwards cried. His eyes began to water as he reached for Lovisa to hug her. This was the best part of her job, helping those truly in need. She didn't require thanks, but in an often thankless profession the people who were in real need always showed gratitude.

He signed where she told him, initialed where she showed him, and thanked her again. As he left she glanced at the clock; ten after five. She was going to be late. She filed his paperwork quickly, shut down her computer, grabbed her purse and all but ran for the exit. The bank was closed so she only had to worry about the tellers seeing her running like a maniac in heels and dress pants.

"Lovisa!"

'Damn!' she thought as she turned around to see who had called her, and she swore again. It was the vice president of the bank, Brad Austin. He was good looking, to be sure. Thick blonde hair and hazel eyes, he ran every morning, so he was physically fit, but he was cocky and long winded, traits to be expected from the son of the president of the bank. It wasn't that she didn't like him, he was a good enough person in small doses, but she was running late and couldn't spare any time.

"Yes Mr. Austin, what can I do for you?" Lovisa asked, trying not to let her irritation show.

"I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done with Mr. Edwards. We always receive compliments that you're our nicest employee, even among the tellers," Brad replied, giving her his self-proclaimed award winning smile. "But what's the rush to leave? Surely we aren't all bad company. Maybe you would be inclined to throw some politeness my way and join me for a drink?"

"Well, Mr. Austin-," she began.

"Call me Brad," he interrupted. She was almost seeing red.

"Well, Brad, I was actually on my way to the goodbye party for my dear friend and longtime roommate Noel, so I can't join you for a drink tonight, I'm sorry," she turned away and began walking quickly, hoping he wouldn't match her gait, but like always he fell in step beside her. Sometimes having short legs was more of a disadvantage than having none. At least with none you could run over someone's toes.

"Your roommate is leaving, huh? Where is she going?" he was persistent. He was so used to getting his way.

"Whidbey Island, Washington, and she's very excited," Lovisa was becoming impatient. The door was so close, but she was honestly afraid that he would follow her to the bar.

They were out the doors now and he laughed, "Who in their right mind would want to leave Chicago for that dump? I've never even heard of it!"

That did make her see red. "For your information Mr. Austin," she spat, "Whidbey Island, Washington is a naval air base and is home to many men and women who fight for this nation." She threw her hand up and a cab almost hopped the curb to get to her. As she opened the door she turned back to him and was satisfied to see a shocked look on his face before telling him she would see him tomorrow as she climbed into the cab and closed the door. Ten minutes later, and twenty minutes late, she arrived at The Hole, a literal hole in the wall bar that she and her friends had discovered in college. It played great music, served great drinks, and had just enough grunge to make anyone feel at home; except for maybe Brad Austin. They were all there, at the usual table, and they smiled and cheered as she sat down.

"You're late!" Daniel declared as she sat her purse on the table. "You're late and you brought that Thing!" Everyone else laughed. Her freshman year of college she had purchased the purse that she used to this day. It was shaped like a koi fish, and was very lifelike. Daniel had been afraid of it the day she introduced her new purse, Ponyo, to the group.

"Damn fish! Always looking at me!" Daniel picked up Ponyo and turned him around.

" Honestly, dear, "said Joseph taking Daniel's hand and kissing it, "you need to overcome your fear. Ponyo will always be with us." Daniel and Joseph had begun dating her senior year in college; just a few weeks after Danny had come out of the closet. Their relationship reminded her of magnets; opposites attract. Daniel had been her male double at one point, loud and fun and vulgar; while Joseph was more refined. He wore tailored coats and dress pants as well as scarves no matter the weather. The two had hated each other at first, but after three years of friendship something else had bloomed. She turned to the other homosexual couple at the table, Brittany and Bex, who could not have been more alike if they tried. What they lacked for cohesion in appearance they made up for in personality. They were two sides of the same coin and were never without each other. They finished each other's sentences, had their own secret handshake, and Lovisa was pretty sure they could communicate telepathically. In fact, they were rubbing noses at the moment, and Lovisa felt a little awkward watching them, so she shifted her gaze to Miranda. Miranda was also a lesbian, but she didn't have another half. At one point she had been in love with Bex, but wasn't willing to tell her. It had been a sad time and Lovisa sat through many a therapy session with her. Their bond ran deep, but not as deep as her and Daniel's did. There was only one person left; Noel, her lovable roommate. Noel was a year younger than the rest of them, and had come to the group late, but they loved her no less. She was the only African American in their group of friends, which earned her the nickname Token. Lovisa didn't exactly understand why Noel had gotten that name and not her. She was technically the token Hispanic of the group, and she had been there longer, but she had been stuck with Lilly Pad, thanks to an old blind history professor at the University, and Latin Fire compliments of her jazz and concert band instructor, Mr. Bounds.

Noel was beautiful, with thick black hair that she wore in afro and big brown eyes. It was no wonder her husband had fallen in love with her. Noel was introduced to Private David Riley at the University one day when the young Private had joined the concert band in her junior year. Their love had blossomed and they were married three years later while she was pursuing her Master's degree. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and she had gone alone. And now that Noel was leaving to join her husband on his base, she would be alone again. It was almost enough to make her cry, but she stayed her tears and raised her glass.

"A toast to Noel! You came to us a silly freshman, and you're leaving a silly woman with a Master's. You came to us a chemistry major, and you're leaving us an accomplished viola player. You came to us a Burke, and you're leaving a Riley. May you always be happy, may you always be healthy, may you never be torn apart by tragedy," she tipped her glass in Noel's direction and she felt a tear run down her cheek. "Saltute!" she tipped back her glass and let the fuzzy navel glide down her throat. It was quiet for a moment as they all eyed her warily, until Daniel raised his glass.

"Cheers!" he shouted and they all followed suit. They all laughed, told stories, and became steadily more intoxicated as the night went on. Somewhere around ten Miranda asked her the question she knew they were all waiting to ask.

"So what now, Lovi?"

She knew what her friend was asking. Who was moving in next? Who was the next roommate? She sighed. They had all been her roommates at one point. It had started out with her, Daniel, Brittany and Bex, then Brittany and Bex started dating and got their own little love nest. Then Noel moved in. It had been the three of them for a while, Lovisa, Daniel and Noel, and it had been fun, then Daniel and Joseph started dating and mirrored Brittany and Bex. The Three Musketeers were no more. She was pursuing her Master's degree when Daniel had decided to leave the nest, and he stopped with his bachelors and got a job teaching high school band, which had been her dream as well. But fate is cruel, and because the band world was male dominated, she could not find work as a high school band director, so she got a job at the bank where she worked now. It was a double edged sword. While she made more money as a loan officer than she would have as a high school, or even college level teacher, she had a Bachelor's degree in music education and a Doctorate in conducting; her heart just wasn't in this line of work. She looked around at her friends. They had all gotten what they wanted. Brittany Porter was the lead percussionist of the Chicago symphony, Rebecca "Bex" Hamblin played piccolo and flute in the same symphony, Joseph Ecklecamp conducted the symphony, Daniel Neuner taught at a prestigious high school and Miranda Nichols peddled music related porn and other smut in her own shop. She shook her head and came back to the question at hand.

"I honestly don't know," she said, staring into her empty cup.

"Bitch you better figure it out! You can't be alone in that house by yourself!" slurred Daniel. He always got catty when he got drunk.

"What my more inebriated half means to say, "Joseph interjected, laying his huge hand over her comically small one, "is that we worry about you. That's all."

"Put an ad in the paper!" suggested Bex. Brittany nodded in agreement and said, "Can you imagine how many people would be on that! Rent free digs, I mean come on! Can't get much better than that!"

It was true. Her grandparents had bought the deed to the house and the land under it outright when they came to this country from people whose ancestors had once been prominent enough to own land back in the eighteen hundreds and had watched the Windy City spring up around them. Why they would sell to her grandparents in the nineteen sixties she would never know. As they owned the house and land, there was no rent to be paid, no mortgage to the bank, only amenities such as water and electricity. It was a deal better than any other in the Windy City, even with the developers constantly trying to get her out, but with such a great deal on the table it was sure to attract strange people.

"An ad in the paper?" she scoffed, "What if I wind up as a skin coat?"

"Skin coat?" Noel chimed.

"As in, some creeper flays me and wears my skin as a coat," Lovisa sometimes wondered why they were friends. Would it kill her to think like a serial killer for once?

"Lovi, dearest, "Joseph begged, "please do this for us, we can't leave you in that house alone with your demons."

"Besides, you could always interview people…thoroughly interview people," Miranda thought she was being helpful, they all did, but she was twenty six and it was high time she began living on her own. She voiced as much and her friends all looked each other, then at her. It was the same look. The pity look. The worried look. The look they reserved especially for her. She sighed. How had a night about Noel become a night about the demons of her past? She caved.

"All right, if it will make you all happy I will write up an ad and put it in the personals first thing tomorrow."

"No need. We have done it for you," Joseph said, producing a piece of paper from his satchel. "This is running in tomorrow's personals and every day after that until you have a new roommate."

There was nothing she could do. Everyone there wanted the best for her, everyone there wanted to see her safe, and most importantly, everyone else was bigger than her, with the exception of Brittany, who matched her five foot two inch frame. She took the paper and shoved it into Ponyo, moving him just enough that his eyes were seemingly looking at Daniel, who immediately began to curse and cry. He was beyond drunk.

"I think it's high time you got him home. He has school tomorrow," Lovisa commented. She was upset with her friends, but it wouldn't last long. They knew it and she knew it. They began to gather up their things, hugging and kissing Noel as they went. Her flight was in a few hours, and they would most likely never see her in person again.

She arrived home sometime around midnight, unlocked her door and looked around her kitchen. Most of Noel's things were gone, but a few things remained. Noel's dry erase calendar on the side of the fridge that matched hers hanging next to it, a few pictures here and there of the two together and with the gang, and her 'Hold me, I'm a fermata' mug in the dish drainer. It was all that was left. They had all left, one by one, and as she kicked off her heels and curled into bed all she could think was that she was truly and utterly alone. She began to cry. What did it matter if she were crying at twenty six if no one was around to see you? If no one stayed?

Across the solar system a stern father was punishing his younger son. He had threatened the very being of mankind and spent three years locked up as penance, but it had not done nearly enough to humble him in his father's opinion. It was almost as if, in the last five years, his oldest and youngest had switched personalities. It was now his youngest that was vain and cruel and cocky. If the punishment had worked for his brother, he reasoned that it could work for him too. He stripped him of his godly rights and powers; super human strength and durability, flight, and longevity. He grieved that that was all he could take from his youngest before exiling him to Midgard. His youngest was a genius and a master of magic. Unlike his brother, his powers resided in his mind, not a weapon, and no one, especially a father, could strip someone of their mind. The Allfather raised his spear and thrust the butt into his mortal son's chest, sending him flying off of the edge of the broken Bifrost. If there was one thing the Casket of Ancient Winters was good for, it was acting as a temporary Bifrost, although it never opened to the same sight. The Allfather bid Heimdall watch over his youngest.

"If Loki should wreak havoc, send for me," and he was gone. That left the elder brother. He was pained. He loved his brother, and he knew that this was best for him, but he grieved for him all the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Lovi woke the next morning to the screech of her alarm clock and a slight headache. She wasn't in the practice of drinking, and every time she did she had a nice little reminder the next day.

'Five a.m. is too early' she thought as she pulled on her workout sweats. Richard Simmons was an impatient man, however, and did not like to be kept waiting. She trudged into the living room and slid the dvd into the player.

"Hey everybody!" the tiny upbeat man on the screen cheered. "Are you ready to sweat?"

"I hate you, you cheery bastard," Lovi muttered as she started her aerobic workout. An hour later she pulled off her sweaty clothes and hopped into the shower, moaning as the hot water pounded her scalp. She picked up the shampoo bottle and sighed; it was almost empty. Her hair was three feet long at least, reaching a little past her buttocks, and was a deep chocolate brown like her eyes. 'With what I'm paying in shampoo I could take a nice trip to England.' She emptied the bottle onto her scalp and began to scrub, and then she started on her body. Her skin was a pretty olive color, one of the few things she liked about herself. Other than her hair, eyes, and skin, she felt she had been dumped in the shallow end of the gene pool. She was only five feet and two inches tall, had small breasts and the quintessential large hips specific to her race. Her waist was small, but with her hips a size ten and her shirt a size five, only one word fit; pear. She turned off the taps and toweled off, wrapping her hair as she began to dress. A black A-line skirt with a deep purple top was what she decided on. She then applied her makeup and put her hair up into a bun. Professionalism had its perks, but she could think of none as she coaxed her hair on top of her head. After it finally decided to cooperate she pulled on sheer knee highs and slipped her feet into a pair of black heels. They gave her six inches and made her feel like more of an adult…an incredibly wounded adult. She glanced at her watch as she brushed her teeth and the face read seven fifteen. She rinsed and clunked down the stairs as carefully as humanly possible, grabbed Ponyo, and darted out the door. Minutes later she was sitting in the back of the cab thanking her lucky stars it was Friday, the last day of her work week.

She sat down at her desk at eight o' clock sharp and began filling out paperwork to ease her days load when she felt someone's hand rest on her shoulder. She knew who it was without looking.

"Good morning Mr. Austin, how are you today?" she never looked up from her paperwork.

"Much better now that you're here, Lovi! Can I call you Lovi?" he squeezed her shoulder.

"You may call me Lovisa, and you may remove your hand from my shoulder," she was already impatient with him and it was only eight thirty.

"Of course, I'm so sorry," he apologized, withdrawing his hand and moving to sit across from her. "I just came over to apologize for yesterday." That got her attention and she put aside her work and gave him her full attention.

"Go on," she said.

He fidgeted a little, clearly new to the apologizing scene. "I feel like I hit some sort of a nerve with you yesterday Lovisa. I don't know what it was, but I feel awful. What was it I said that got you so upset anyway?"

"Honestly Mr. Austin, I was running late yesterday and was already a little perturbed, but you didn't help matters any by insulting my friend's new home, and in turn the brave men and women who fight for this country," she stated. She left out that he always irked her slightly, with his privileged attitude.

"I didn't realize you were so patriotic, it's kind of a turn on," and he was back in the dog house.

"And now you're done," she said, standing. It was meant to be a compliment, she knew, but she wasn't used to them and he was the last person she wanted compliments from. "If you would be so kind Mr. Austin, I have a lot of work to do and I think that we are past done here. I accept your apology, now please leave."

He chuckled and also stood, but instead of turning to leave he leaned down so that his face was mere inches from hers. She didn't balk from him, and instead glared into his eyes, showing him her contempt.

"Ms. De La Garza, I think you forget that I am the vice president of this company. Do you know what that means?" he asked in a voice dripping with condescension. "It means that I am your boss, and I will say when we are done, okay? It also means that if I want to take you out for a drink that you graciously accept. Understand?"

"What I understand, Mr. Austin, is that while you are my boss, there are many security cameras in this bank, and those cameras have picked up everything you have just said and done. Do you know what that means?" she said, never averting her steely gaze. He looked puzzled. "Let me give you a hint; sexual harassment cases have been built on less." This was something he understood. He turned to leave, with a look that she couldn't quite place on his face. She sighed and plopped back into her seat. This was going to be a long day.

After three loan appeals that day her phone rang.

"This is Lovisa De La Garza, how can I help you?" she was always pleasant at work, even over the phone.

"Hi, I'm calling about the ad in the paper," a weary female voice answered. Lovi could hear screaming in the background. It sounded like the woman was at a Chuck E. Cheese.

"I'm sorry, what ad is that ma'am?" Lovi honestly had no idea what this woman was talking about.

"The ad in the personals? About you looking for a roommate?" the woman sounded confused, but Lovi was immediately brought up to speed.

"Yes, I'm sorry it slipped my mind," she pulled the paper from her purse and skimmed it. 'Looking for roommate. Rent free. Must help with bills. Must be in mid to late twenties. Call me.' And then it listed her work phone, home phone, and cell phone numbers. She would kill her friends if she could!

"So you're still looking for a roommate then?" the woman answered.

"Yes, if you could just give me your name, we can set up an interview," she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and readied her pen.

"Okay, great! My name is Amanda Black, and I can do an interview any day past three," she said.

"Oh, are you a teacher?" Lovi inquired.

"No, my kids don't get out of school until three." Lovi's heart sank. She loved kids, but she didn't want to live with any. It would mess up her entire schedule. She wouldn't be able to exercise in the morning, or come in late at night, and most importantly she wouldn't be able to practice her instruments. She didn't want a bunch of children running around with her violin and trumpet, or banging on her piano. The answer was no. Flat out no.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm looking for a roommate, not a tenant. Thank you for calling, I wish you luck," and she hung up the phone and rubbed her temples; it was only one p.m. This was going to be a longer day than she had thought.

When six o' clock rolled around she felt more tired than a midget in a marathon. After she had hung up on Amanda, she had received at least a dozen calls from other people hoping to be her roommate. Some were women, some were men, and some had unisex voices with unisex names, so she had no idea what they were, but she had found reasons to refuse them all. No interviews were set up so far and she was afraid to look at her cell phone. She dug it out as she walked to the door. No missed calls, but one message from Lindsay Wilken. She hadn't even known Lindsay and Chris were back in town, but sure enough the message said 'We just got back! Come to the Hole for dinner?' She couldn't help but smile. Lindsay was a year older than her, but she was her best friend and she rarely got to see her because she was always traveling. 'Sure thing' she sent back, and hopped into a cab.

When she walked in she was greeted with the familiar sight of Chris and Lindsay snuggled up in a booth together. They were so perfect it was disgusting! Lindsay was a little pudgy, but she had large breasts and shapely hips that made it almost unnoticeable and her skin was as white as ivory. She had straight brown hair and bright blue eyes that Lovi envied. Chris was your typical member of the Aryan race; blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and tall. They were both tall to Lovi though. Everyone was tall to Lovi. Lindsay saw her coming and began smiling that award winning smile that all incredibly attractive people have.

"Your hair is so long!" Lindsay cried when Lovi sat down. "I've missed you so much! We've missed you so much! How have you been!"

"I know, it's almost time for a cut!" No one could brighten her mood like Lindsay could. "I've missed you guys too! Chris, have you read the new Song of Ice and Fire novel? I've been fine, how was the tour?" Chris and Lindsay were part of a string sextet that was becoming very popular in the U.S. Lindsay's primary instrument was violin, and she played first violin in the sextet. Chris's primary instrument was the saxophone, but he picked up viola as a secondary so he could play with Lindsay. He played second viola in the sextet.

Chris laughed. "Are you going to shear yourself again!"

Lovi giggled. "I had planned on it, yes."

Lindsay scrunched her nose. "Don't cut your hair again! It's so pretty! I know you do it for a good cause, but Lovi it really is stunning! I wish I had hair like it."

"Oh leave it Lindsay," Chris said throwing his arm around his wife. "Let her do what she wants, she's a grown woman. If you do shave it again though, I'm going to laugh at you."

"Hey, people with cancer can use my hair more than I can, and you laugh at me whether I'm bald or not," Lovi said smiling.

"Yeah, yeah, we've all heard the good samaritan spiel Lovi," he took a drink of his beer. Unlike Daniel, Chris could hold his liquor.

"Anyway," Lindsay said bringing them full circle," the tour went great! We made a lot of money and a lot of new fans! We even got a call from a Ms. Pepper Potts today asking us if we would like to play at the Stark Expo in a few months!"

"Sweet black baby Jesus!" Lovi exclaimed clutching her heart. "That's fantastic guys! You're making it big!"

"I know! There is a bump in the road though," Lindsay said as she sipped her appletini.

"What could possibly be wrong?" Lovi asked concerned.

"Well, you know Andrea is pregnant right?" Lindsay asked.

"Andrea Ridings?" It was news to Lovi. No one told her anything anymore.

"Uh huh! Well she's due around the time of the Stark Expo, so she and James won't be able to play with us. We might have to turn down the biggest gig we've ever gotten!" Lindsay looked like she was about to cry, and Chris gave her a hug. Lindsay did have a point though. How were they supposed to play a gig without a second violin and a string bass?

"Well I still have Eldon's number if you need it sweetie! Don't cry Lindsay!" Lovi fished inside her fish to pull out her phone and the ad fell on the table. Chris snatched it up immediately and read it.

"Why do you need a new roommate?" he asked. "What happened to Noel?"

"She's finally moving in with her husband now that he's back from Norway. She left yesterday," Lovi reached across the table and took a sip of Lindsay's drink.

"Noel's gone!" Lindsay looked distraught. "No one tells me anything anymore!"

"How do you think I feel! Andrea's pregnant and no one told me!" Lovi replaced Lindsay's drink. Lindsay looked sheepish.

"So who's living with you now?" Chris asked.

"No one yet, but I've had lots of calls from lots of winners," she said rolling her eyes. She began to regale them with the many calls she had gotten today, eliciting laughs and groans from her friends.

"Why would you give out all of your numbers?" Lindsay asked. "I can see your cell and your home, but your work? That's just not okay."

"Don't look at me," Lovi said, taking back the paper and shoving it into her fish. "This was the work of Daniel and Joseph. I'm pretty sure that Bex, Brittany, and Miranda were in on it too though."

"Well you can't blame them," said Chris. "They're just looking out for you. You've been through a lot; we all just want you to be safe and happy." Lindsay nodded in agreement with her spouse.

"Why does everyone feel the need to remind me that I'm DG?" Lovi snapped. "Do you all think that I've forgotten?"

"That's not it at all," Chris looked hurt. "We weren't there for all of it Lovi, but we were there for part of it, and no one wants that for you again. We know you haven't forgotten, and neither have we."

She swallowed her pride. She hated hurting her friend's feelings. He was right, they were just looking out for her; she ought to be grateful. She changed the subject. "Anyway, here's Eldon's number," she scribbled it onto a bar napkin.

"Thanks," Lindsay said, stuffing the napkin into her purse. "Now all we need is a second violin." Chris and Lindsay both smiled at her.

"You both know that my primary instrument is trumpet," Lovi said, chewing on the fries she had ordered.

"But you play violin beautifully, Lovi!" Lindsay pleaded. "Please! We wouldn't ask unless we were desperate, which we are! We can't do this without you, and it's really important!"

"It's true Lovi; this could get us on the map! We need you," Chris looked desperate. Lindsay looked desperate. She couldn't say no.

"Send me the music and I'll look at it."

Lindsay squealed and hugged her tight. It took Lovi by surprise. Lindsay never hugged anyone but Chris, ever! By nature Hispanics were louder and more touchy feely than other races, so she relished this rare chance to hug he closest friend.

"I have to go home now guys. God only knows how many messages are on the machine. Love you two!" She got up to leave and Chris hugged her too.

"You have no idea how much this means to us Lovi!" he said squeezing the life out of her.

"I'm starting to understand," she could feel her bones creaking.

By the time she got home it was nine at night. 'So much for practicing' she thought. She felt a small head butt into her calf and she bent down to pick up her cat. He was five years old, but to her he would always be that tiny little kitten from the box at the grocery store.

"Hi Specs! How are you! I'm sorry mommy hasn't been home to keep you company, have you missed me?" she asked in a shameless animal voice. She loved Specs, so named for the markings on his face that looked like glasses. Specs meowed and began to wriggle; he never liked to be held for long. She dropped him and pressed play on the answering machine.

"You have twenty seven new messages," the automated voice informed her. She sighed and grabbed a pen and paper and began writing down names and numbers. Forty minutes later her list was complete and hanging on the refrigerator. Three names didn't have numbers, only places that she could reach them. Ken McDonnel could be reached at the halfway house on Winchester Avenue; why she had even bothered writing that down she would never know. Brent Krueger could be reached at the YMCA where he was staying, and Loki Owenson could be reached at the Plaza in downtown Chicago. Of the three, Owenson sounded the most promising. He sounded smart, which was something the other applicants lacked. She trudged up the stairs, scrubbed her face clean, brushed her teeth, took off her clothes and snuggled under the comforter. It was chilly for a September night in the Windy City, but she was soon fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**I would like to apologize for taking so long to update. My jazz band had a few gigs and I couldn't get enough time away from my music to write, then my fiancé came to visit me and we had to fit nine months' worth of dates into two weeks, and after that I went to Florida for a week. I've had a good time, but if anyone is actually reading this story then I am truly sorry. **

**A quick explanation. Everyone always portrays Loki as stoic, but he the trickster god. He will say and do anything to get what he wants. Everyone should remember that Loki is the god of lying when they read this.**

Lovi woke the next morning at five a.m. to the beeping of her alarm.

'It's Saturday,' she thought as she rolled over and tried to reach the snooze button. 'It's Saturday and I have people coming to see this house.'

She rolled out of bed and put on a grungy pair of shorts and an old white t-shirt, threw her hair up into a pony tail, brushed her teeth and set off down the stairs. As she opened her custodial closet she sighed, grabbed her ceiling sweeping broom and got to work. It was too early to play any music yet, and too early for any profound introspective thinking, so as she swept the ceiling she thought about anime, forming a top ten list of the most annoying characters to ever grace television. While she swept the floor she thought about the Lord of the Rings and how Samwise Gamgee reminded her lot of Samwell Tarly. Mopping the floors brought on Star Wars, scrubbing the bathrooms brought on her questioning of the downward spiral that was the romantic vampire genre, vacuuming had her mooning over Harry Potter, and dusting and polishing had her reliving the Devil May Cry series. When she was finally done the house was spotless, smelled slightly antiseptic and she had been left with the stale realization that she was a huge nerd.

"At least I don't look like one," she mumbled as she pulled the list off of the refrigerator and began to make calls. Normally eight thirty in the morning is an acceptable time to call and schedule appointments. It would seem that this was not so on a Saturday. She was met with more angry grumbling than she would have liked, considering she was doing these people a service, but she actually succeeded in making twelve appointments already for the day with still a few numbers to call; the three men with no homes. She decided to call Ken McDonnel first, which turned out to be a wise choice.

"Hello, this is Ms. De La Garza and I'm calling to speak with a Mr. Ken McDonnel," she said trying to sound as polite as humanly possible.

"Absolutely, may I inquire as to the nature of your call?"

That seemed odd to her. Why would they need to know why she was calling? Couldn't they just transfer her to his room? "I hardly think that it is any of your business, but I'm responding to his request to move in with me." That sounded bad. "That is, to be my new roommate."

The woman on the other end began to laugh. "Trust me; you don't want him as a roommate Ms. De La Garza."

Lovi bristled, "And why not?"

"Because this halfway house is specifically used by the law to house parolees who have committed the crimes including, but not limited to, rape, drug abuse, physical abuse, and armed robbery."

Lovi was stunned. "Thank you, I understand. Goodbye." She hung up the phone. Anything after that could only be described as cake.

She called the YMCA next, asking for Brent. When she finally got him on the phone, he was very apologetic and explained that his 'baby momma' had kicked him out two nights ago, and was now willing to take him back. She wished him well and hung up the phone, crossing his name off the list. 'Only one more,' she thought as she dialed the phone.

"Hello, thank you for calling the Plaza! This is Byron speaking. How can I help you today?"

"Hello Byron, my name is Lovisa De La Garza and I'm looking for a Loki Owenson, could you transfer me to his room please?" Lovi was relieved to be speaking with a cordial desk clerk for once.

"Well ma'am, I'm afraid I can't. We don't have a Mr. Owenson staying here," he sounded sympathetic. "Let me search the first name for you. Loki you said? L-o-k-i? "

"I would assume so," Lovi had no clue. It seemed a ridiculous name to her. 'Look who's talking' she thought as she realized their names were only one letter apart.

"Here he is!" Byron sounded ecstatic. "Mr. Loki ODINSON, room 675. Shall I transfer you ma'am?"

"If you would be so kind," said Lovi. She needed to get this call over with. Her first interview was at noon and it was already ten thirty. Bleach stained clothes and messy hair was no way to meet your future roommate.

"Right away ma'am," the phone clicked and began to ring again shortly. A man with a slight English accent picked up the phone. He sounded the way she remembered; very refined and intelligent. She stifled a giggle as Daniel's voice entered her mind. 'Oh thank God he's not a chimney sweep!'

"Hello?"

"Hello Mr. Odinson, this is Ms. De La Garza responding to the message you left on my answering machine last night. I understand that you are in need of a place to stay?" Lovi's voice oozed with professionalism.

"Yes, and as I understand it, you are in need of a roommate. Although I will say that I am a bit shocked to find that I am speaking with a seemingly intelligent woman. The phrasing and the general directness of the article led me to believe that I would be speaking to a simple minded man."

She did giggle at that. She had been told more than once that she was a manly woman. She didn't see it, but others did.

"What a beautiful laugh you have Ms. De La Garza, may I know your first name?" she could practically see him smiling and kicked herself. His voice was like honey, and she was a sucker for an accent, but she was an adult, and needed to handle things as such and composed herself.

"Thank you Mr. Odinson, but flattery will get you nowhere. Are you still in need of a place to live?"

"Yes, I am still in need of lodging," it seemed he got the message.

"Fantastic. I will see you at three fifteen sharp. The address is 1991 east Superior Street. It's very hard to miss, as it is the only house. Any questions Mr. Odinson?"

"No. I am not a simpleton. I will see you at three fifteen. Goodbye." He hung up.

"It seems that he's not used to being ordered around," Lovi mused as she hung up the phone and began climbing the steps. "We'll see if he can behave at the interview."

An hour later she was scrubbed clean primped. She wasn't as formally dressed as a day in the office would have her, but she wasn't in jeans and t-shirt either. She chose a pair of black dress pants and a teal scoop neck blouse. Her makeup was done naturally and simply, and instead of the huge bun on top of her head, it was in a simple braid down her back. It irked her to dress professionally on a Saturday, but it was what had to be done. Her heels were killing her feet, but she wanted to be somewhat close to eye level with these people. She looked in the mirror one last time before the doorbell rang. She gathered her paperwork off of the kitchen table and put on her game face (polite, but stern) and opened the door. On the porch stood Aaron Kruel; her first interviewee. He was very tall and very thin; with mousy brown hair so short it was almost shaved. She extended her hand.

"Hello, I'm Lovisa De La Garza."

"Hi, I'm Aaron!" he was quick to smile as he slapped her palm with his. "Can I come in and see the place?"

"No, you may not. The entrance to this house will depend on the answers you have for my questions," Lovisa opened her pen and readied her clipboard. Aaron looked confused.

"We will start with a general biography, very basic things. How old are you, Aaron?"

"Uh, twenty three…?" He was scratching his head. Lovi chose to ignore that he ended his statement with an upward inflection, therefor rendering it a question.

"Have you ever been convicted of any crimes?"

"Well, does robbery count?"

Lovi looked up from her clipboard. "Yes, Mr. Kruel, robbery does count. I wish you luck, but you will not be staying here. Good day." Lovi stepped back inside and shut the door. Maybe some people roomed with crooks, but not her. Let him go stay with Mr. McDonnel. Her next four interviews didn't make it into the house either. One of them was convicted of rape, another was a meth addict and the last one wouldn't present her with an i.d. to verify that he was who he said he was. Her fifth applicant did make it off the porch, but only to the living room. His downfall was telling her she had 'a nice ass'. Applicant six said she was sorry but didn't like the layout of the house from what she could see, and applicant seven skipped his interview to take applicant six out for coffee. Applicant eight set his drink on her piano and was immediately asked to leave, nine never showed up, and ten was a bleached blonde bitch with fake breasts and lips who thought she deserved everything in the world (like, ever!). Lovi asked her to leave on the basis that they were too different. 'She and Brad would make a perfect pair,' thought Lovi as she shut the door yet again. So far no one had made it past the kitchen, and with only three more applicants she was getting nervous. She didn't want to spend weeks looking for a roommate; one Saturday was enough. Applicant number eleven came with a baby in tow and was turned away before she could give an apology for not having a babysitter, and twelve called to cancel as she was shutting the door on eleven. She sighed and slouched down on the couch. She had almost half an hour until lucky number thirteen showed up, she might as well catch up on some piano practice. Lovi heaved herself off the couch and trudged over to the bench, pulled Chopin's Prelude number sixteen, also known as Raindrop Prelude, out of her piano binder, and began to play. Lovi wasn't fantastic at piano, but she wasn't terrible. It had always vexed her teachers that she was so slow to learn piano, but the problem was physical, not mental. She had extensive nerve damage in her left hand due to a compound fracture of her ulna and radius. After emergency surgery to fix her arm, she had been in a cast for a year, so she considered herself lucky to be able to play at all. When she was done she flipped back to the beginning and started again, this time with a larger contrast in dynamics and more attention paid to the pedaling. When she reached the end of the Prelude, she slipped seamlessly into Raindrops and got lost in the music. Her fingers ached and she cursed herself for going a week without practicing, but her lecture was cut short by a knock at the door. She lifted her fingers off the keys and scrambled to the door, glancing at her watch; three fifteen sharp. She grabbed her clipboard off the coffee table and took a deep breath before opening the door. On the porch stood Loki Odinson. He was very tall and thin, with straight black hair and skin light enough to rival Lindsay's, and eyes of the brightest green she had ever seen; Harry Potter's eyes. His clothes were what set him apart from the other applicants. While everyone else had come in jeans and a t-shirt, Mr. Odinson seemed to understand the social protocol of dressing up for an interview. He wore dress pants, a dress shirt, a beautiful tailored jacket, a scarf to match his eyes, and black dress shoes. Joseph dressed the same way. 'He's gay' though Lovi as she extended her hand for the thirteenth time that day.

"Hello Mr. Odinson, I'm Lovisa De La Garza. It's very nice to meet you," she said. He took her hand gently and kissed it. Definitely gay. He straightened up and smiled, but his smile never reached his eyes.

"It is a pleasure to finally know your name. No doubt you know mine," his smile was starting to bug her. It was smug. He was sure of himself, that's was plain, what with his clothes and the way he slicked his hair back.

"I'm going to ask you some questions now Mr. Odinson. Your entrance to my house is based solely on the answers you provide me. We will start out with a simple biography, very basic," she readied her pen. "How old are you Mr. Odinson?"

"Twenty eight, and yourself Ms. Lovisa?" he asked.

"Thank you Mr. Odinson, but I will ask the questions and you will answer," Lovi scribbled his age into the little box. "Have you ever been convicted of any crimes?"

"Why should I not have the pleasure of questioning you Ms. Lovisa? I think it is only fair that if we are living with each other I should have some idea of who you are."

Lovi understood now. Not only was he accustomed to getting his own way, he had the angel theory working for him too. He was eloquent, but a silver tongue was only good in the bedroom in her opinion.

"You do not get the pleasure of questioning me, Mr. Odinson, because I am not petitioning to come live with you in your home," she spat. "Now, I'll ask again, have you ever been convicted of any crimes."

Anger flashed across his face, there and gone in under a second, then the smile was back and his silver tongue was back to work. "Not in this realm."

Lovisa checked the 'no' box. "Do you do drugs?"

"No," he chuckled.

Check. "Are you a heavy drinker?"

"I am not, but my brother is," Loki said, smiling. Another attempt at humor, but the laughter never reached his eyes.

"Well, luckily for you Mr. Odinson, I don't give two figs about your brother because he won't be living here," Lovi checked 'no' one last time. "Now all I need is an i.d. to prove you're who you say you are."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an i.d. She looked over it thoroughly and decided it wasn't counterfeit. "Alright Mr. Odinson, you have passed the first test, please follow me into the living room."

She turned and walked inside, and he followed obediently, shutting the door behind him.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Lovi asked. "Water, soda, tea, wine?"

He looked confused, but shook it off. "Tea would be very nice, thank you."

"Stay here," Lovi commanded as she walked into the kitchen. This was the next test. The coaster test. She would ask a few more questions, sure, but the real test was to see if he used a coaster, and God help him if he put his tea on her piano like number eight. "Iced or hot?" she called over her shoulder.

"I would prefer hot, but you may do whatever is simpler," he answered. Iced it was, which was perfect because the condensation would work to her advantage. She grabbed the pitcher out of the fridge, and poured two glasses.

"Lemon or sugar?" she called out again.

"Neither thank you," he responded. She walked back into the living room. He was standing right where she had left him, it didn't look like he had touched anything.

"Please, sit," she said as she seated herself in the overstuffed armchair. He sat on the couch across from her. She sipped her tea, then placed it on the coffee table using a coaster and picked up her clipboard again.

"Tell me what you like to do in your spare time, Mr. Odinson," Lovi said, her pen cocked.

"I like to read, and practice my…magic," he said.

"Mhmmm," she nodded while she jotted down his answer. "And group activities? What do you and your friends do?"

He laughed, but his eyes were a sea of sadness and anger. "I have no friends."

She felt her heart ache. Everyone should have a friend, at least one, but this man seemed like he was alone in the universe. "Alright, then tell me about your family."

His smile faded and was replaced by somewhat of a sneer. "I'd rather not." This made her feel worse. If anyone could understand family trouble, it was her. He grabbed a coaster to set his drink on and continued looking miserable. 'Check'.

"Well Mr. Odinson, you're doing very well. In fact, I think I'll let you ask one question. Choose wisely," Lovi said, setting down her clipboard.

He sat for a moment and thought before making eye contact.

"How is it that a young woman such as you can survive on a single income in a city such as this one?"

It was her turn to smile. "A very good question, Mr. Odinson. This house was built in the late eighteen hundreds on land that was owned since the early eighteen hundreds by a family who decided to sell the deed to the house and the land to my grandparents in the nineteen sixties. When my grandparents died, they left this house to me."

"What a lucky girl you are, to have family that cares so much about you," Loki said. It almost sounded as if he were mocking her.

"Lucky woman, Mr. Odinson," Lovi said. "I haven't been a girl for a very long time."

"Yes, I suppose that is true, judging by your figure and your intellect," his silver tongue was shining again. "If I continue to behave, may I have another question?"

"You just did," Lovi answered. He shocked for a second, but regained his composure. "On to the kitchen then, Mr. Odinson." Once again, Loki followed obediently. The next test was simple. Specs was curled up underneath the kitchen table and he meowed helplessly as she picked him up.

"Mr. Odinson, this is Specs. He hates most people and is extremely cranky when you wake him up," Lovi said, almost smiling. "Hold him."

Loki looked very uncomfortable as he took the cat. Specs looked at him, sniffed him, meowed and began to wriggle. Loki set him on the floor gently and he scampered off.

"Congratulations Loki, Specs didn't bite, scratch, or hiss at you," Lovisa said smiling.

"Why would you congratulate me for that, Ms. Lovisa?" Loki asked, brushing cat hair from his coat.

"Because Specs was your last test, and you passed. Would you like to see your room?"

"I would greatly appreciate that."

Lovi walked back though the doorway that joined the kitchen and living room and walked down the hall to the last door on the left and opened it.

"This is your room," Lovi said as she moved aside so Loki could get a look. His face fell.

"It's pink."

"Yes, it is. How very astute you are," Lovi sighed. "You can paint it whatever color you like, but this was my friend Noel's room, so yes, it is pink for now. Feel free to do anything you want to it, it's your room." That seemed to brighten his spirits a tad. "When can I expect you to begin moving in?" Lovi asked.

"Within the hour," was Loki's response. Lovi kicked herself. She was never going to get any practicing done.

"I will see you within the hour then, Loki," Lovi chimed as she showed him to the door. As soon as she left, she called Joseph's cell phone.

"Hello, this is Joseph," Joseph said.

"It's me, Lovi."

"I know it's you dear, I have caller i.d."

"Then why do you do that!" Lovi shook her head. "Doesn't matter. Pull the ad Joe, I found a roommate."


	4. Chapter 4

"Here's your key, Mr. Odinson," Lovi said, handing him the small silver ring. "Now I just need you to sign this roommate agreement."

They were sitting at the dining room table with a stack of papers settled between them. Once Loki had left, Lovi had changed into more casual attire. Her dress clothes were replaced by Capri pants and a t-shirt; her heels by tennis shoes. She lived for the weekends when she could dress as casually as she liked without the oppressive bonds of professionalism weighing her down. Loki was still in his formal clothing and seemed shocked when she had opened the door in her somewhat less than regal garb. She was surprised too. One would think that he would change into less expensive clothes before moving into a new house, but what had really surprised her was that he only had a few boxes stacked in his arms.

"Are there more in the cab?" she asked, taking a box from him.

"Cab?" he looked puzzled.

"Don't tell me you walked all the way here! You poor thing!" The plaza was sixteen city blocks from her house; much too far to walk balancing boxes. "Is this all of it then?"

Loki nodded, "I did not have much time to pack my things once my father decided to be rid of me," he smirked mischievously, "but I have my ways of getting back into my home."

The boxes sat next to him as he looked at the paperwork.

"Why on earth would I need to sign something? Do you not trust me?"

"It's just a contract stating that you will not find new lodging for at least a year, all housework and bills will be split equally, as well as any grocery expenses," Lovi stated, showing him where to sign and initial. "There are also guest clauses."

"This seems like an awful lot of paperwork to cover such a small amount of information, Miss Lovisa," Loki said flipping through the pages.

"I like to be thorough, Mr. Odinson," Lovi quipped. "I believe that the more ground rules there are, the less we will tread on each other's toes, which will ensure a happier cohabitation. Any questions?"

"No, I suppose not," Loki said signing the paper. She took it and placed it into her folder before handing him his copy.

"This is your copy. Make sure you hang onto it because I am not in the habit of providing replacements," she closed her folder and set it on the table. "Now, would you like the ten cent tour?"

Loki nodded and followed Lovi back to the front door.

"I'm sorry, but I feel that I need to start from the beginning," she said blushing. "Now, you've seen through that door is the dining room, which we were just in. It's only used for special occasions like Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, and when family visits. The room we are standing in right now is the living room. This room is used for anything and everything. Television, games, movies, basically anything fun and group oriented."

She walked down the hall that housed his bedroom and gestured to the first door on the right. "This is the door to the basement. It's used for storage, laundry, and just about anything else you can think of. This next door here is your bathroom, and then the last door is your room, of course. You will be expected to provide your own toilet paper and other toiletries. This room across the hall from yours is my friend Daniel's old room, now used as a guest room. The door next to that is the custodial closet. In there you'll find anything you need for housework. And through this last doorway on the left is the kitchen. We usually eat in here. Fridge is anytime access because you live here. I have labeled the cabinets and drawers for you, and they will stay labeled so long as you should need them. Over here on the fridge are our calendars. You will be taking on Noel's chore schedule and are expected to write any big events you are attending in on your calendar for my viewing. For example, if you're staying at your friend's house for the night, write it in so I don't have to be worried about you."

"Why would you be worried about me?"

Lovi jumped a bit. He had been silent the entire time, and now he was right behind her breaking his silence. She looked up at him.

"Well, we're going to be friends," she explained. "I worry about all of my friends. Now, any questions?"

"Where does that door go?" he asked, pointing to the door that led up to her room. It was nestled between the cabinets and the stove, and it wasn't a very practical place for it at all.

"This door leads up to the second floor; my floor. Would you like to see it?" she asked. He nodded and she pulled open the door. It opened onto a very steep staircase. As a child she had measured the angle and found that it was a staggering seventy eight degrees. The ceiling was also lower than anywhere else in the house at one point on the staircase due to an overhang somewhere in the attic. At that point the ceiling would just brush the top of her head when she wore her heels, but everyone else she knew would have to duck; especially her new roommate. She started up the hardwood stairs, and Loki followed, grumbling a bit when he had to duck. When they reached the landing there were three doors; one on the right, one on the left, and one directly in front of them. The landing was small, really only large enough for one person at a time, but she was surprised that Loki had stayed on the staircase; usually everyone just piled in. He was hunched over trying not to hit his head. It was quite comical. She opened the door to her right and stepped in; Loki breathed a sigh of relief and stepped in behind her. It was too small for a bedroom, but it was perfect for a practice room. On one wall stood a bookshelf that housed her sheet music, numerous cases lined the opposite wall; a few stands huddled in the far corner, and two chairs sat in the middle of the room.

Loki stepped in further and looked around. "What is this for?"

"This is my practice room. It houses my instruments and music, and my degrees," she said gesturing to the back wall.

"You play instruments? That is fascinating! Truly fascinating!" he gushed. This time the light did reach his eyes. "When I was a child I had always wanted to learn how to play the high harp, but my father said it was not fitting for a boy to play instruments, or sing. 'Men should be warriors' he said."

"Well you showed him didn't you? According to your interview you're a magical librarian, not a warrior," Lovi chuckled. Loki looked as if he had been smacked.

"Oh God, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you, it was a joke! A bad one!" Lovi soothed, trying to fix it. It wasn't working. Loki just looked angry and hurt. "To be honest, from an evolutionary standpoint, smart men like you are now the alpha males as opposed to the big muscle bound brutes from the days of old."

That seemed to work. He wasn't smiling, but at least he didn't look hurt and murderous. 'One more ego stroke ought to do it,' she thought.

"And magic is one of the most interesting hobbies I've ever witnessed. Chris Angel looks like a complete moron, but when he starts his illusions, no one cares, because his magic is that awesome," Lovi said, turning to leave the room. He lingered for a few seconds, and then followed her. The tension was still there, so thick you could choke on it. So much for a good first impression. She opened the door opposite the stairs.

"This is my bathroom. You shouldn't ever need to use it, but if you do, then make sure to knock first. I don't like using the lock, and as you can see, the shower is standing only and glass. Very see through. You have the tub in your bathroom." Even that didn't make him happier. "Okay, so I guess we're done here." She turned and started back down the steps;  
Loki didn't follow. He opened the last door and strode in. Lovi was at the bottom of the stairs before she realized she wasn't being followed, and she dashed back up the stairs.

There he was, standing in her room, looking around. His eyes locked onto the small stuffed cat that sat on her bed and he reached out to grab it.

"Don't touch that!" Lovi shouted, snatching it off the bed. "What do you even think you're doing? This is my room!"

"I am sorry to have upset you," Loki said, "What is your attachment to that toy, if I may be so bold?"

"You may not! Get out!" Lovi was shouting, shoving her finger into his chest.

Loki looked amused and held up his hands in mock surrender. "I did not realize I was in the presence of the Lady Sif. Allow me to take my leave," Loki's voice was full of laughter as he bowed and began to make his way out the door. Lovi set Kitty on the bed and followed him, her short legs moving quickly in her anger. When she reached the kitchen she caught a glimpse of him rounding the corner into the hallway.

"Just decide what you want to eat for dinner," she called after him. "And stay out of my room unless you're invited!" She slumped down into a kitchen chair.

'False kindness, false manners, false smiles….this is going to be a long year.'

Loki shut his door and set his boxes on the floor; smiling all the while. He hadn't expected the reaction he had gotten for trespassing, but it was humorous none the less, and he couldn't help but egg it on a bit.

'It's just a bit of fun,' he thought as he looked around. All in all it wasn't a bad deal. The room was nowhere near as spacious as the one is Asgard, or the one provided by the Plaza, but it was roomy enough and it would serve. For obvious reasons he couldn't return to either. Banishment and imprisonment put a damper on home sweet home, and how long before the Plaza realized that he'd given them fake payment? The paper he had enchanted would only hold its illusion spell for a little while longer and it would not do to be around when they figured out they had been duped. Other than the color, this room would be a perfect residence. He waved his hand and the room turned an emerald green, what little he had in his boxes flew into the dresser and onto the shelves; he sighed. He would need to cloak himself and sneak into Asgard soon; he had almost nothing, and what he did have was obtained by petty theft via sorcery. But he couldn't steal books that didn't exist on Midgard, and living without his books for however long his banishment occurred was not possible. He sat down on the bed and cursed; it didn't have sheets, a blanket, or any pillows. He was sure that his foster parents would notice if his bedding went missing. He supposed he could magic himself bedding, but the problem being it would only look like bedding. It would feel like whatever material he had enchanted. He could always make more money, or he could ask Lovisa if she had any to spare. That thought made him laugh. The Midgardian woman was full of fire, but she was so tiny it was comical to see her get angry. None the less, he felt that she might try to smite him if he were to speak with her right now. She wouldn't succeed, but it was still no way to work his way back into the Allfather's good graces. No, if he wanted back into Asgard for good, he was going to have to play nice. No doubt Heimdall was watching. Thank goodness he was the God of Lies, and what was acting if not one huge lie? He would get through this, he just needed to bide his time. He lay down and felt something crinkle beneath him. He pulled the roommate agreement out from underneath him.

'I might as well read it, I have nothing else to do,' he thought as he sat up again.

The first page was very simple, it outlined the agreement that he would remain in the house for a year, no exceptions. He had no qualms with that, he figured he would be here for longer than that anyway. The second page was where his problems began.

"On the first night of your new living arrangement, I (Lovisa) will take care of everything. Every day and night following the first, you (new roommate) will adhere to the chore schedule set up by me (Lovisa). Exceptions to the chore schedule will only be made if either of us is deathly ill, has a previous engagement (ex. a date), or dying. You will pick up after all of your guests. The same agreement has been made for bills. All amenities bills will be split fifty fifty, down the middle. If you cannot pay your half, you will have the privilege of these amenities taken away."

'Princes do not clean,' Loki smoldered. 'Princes do not cook. Princes do not pay! And they most certainly do not take orders from stupid Midgardian women! I am a Prince of Asgard and will be treated as such! Asgardians are not ruled by Midgardians! I am a God!'

He began to frantically read through the contract. Foolproof; no loopholes.

"_I like to be thorough, Mr. Odinson_," her voice teased at the back of his mind. If he couldn't leave, then he would make her life hell. He roused himself from the bed and walked over to the desk, placing the contract neatly in the top drawer, and sniffed the air. The heavenly scent of roasting meat and steaming vegetables filled his nose, and his stomach began to rumble. It was an odd sensation, as it never happened on Asgard. On Asgard, no one knew hunger, disease, or death unless one was slain intentionally. They ate for pleasure, not for sustenance. Mortality was going to take some getting used to. He crossed the room and headed for the kitchen. The tiny table was set for two and Lovi was pulling a pan out of the oven.

"Oh, good timing," she said once she spotted him. "Dinner is ready. Go on, sit, sit!"

Loki slid into his chair as Lovisa placed the piping hot dishes onto the table, served herself, and then took her seat.

"You never told me what you wanted to eat, so I made something I like," she smiled at him over the table, while cutting her meat. "I hope you like it. Aren't you going to get any?"

Loki was very confused. This woman changed her moods like Fandral changed partners. He stood and served himself, something he was not accustomed to, and sat again, cutting his meat.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier," she went on. "I figured it was a common social protocol that you stayed out of someone's personal space, but it's obvious that you're not from this county, so I'll let it slide this once. Can we start over, this time as roommates instead of as strangers?"

Loki stared at her pleading smile. 'Play nice' the little voice in his head whispered. He took a bite before responding. It was delicious, surprisingly, and that made it a little easier for him to accept her offer. 'At least I will not starve in my time on Midgard,' he thought as he nodded.

"Fantastic!" she gushed, and reached her hand across the table. "My name is Lovi and I have a Bachelor's degree in music education and a Doctorate in conducting." She sat for a moment waiting for his reply before prodding him, "Your turn."

He sighed and shook her hand. This was a disgusting display. "My name is Loki and I am a Prince of Asgard and the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms."

Lovi rolled her eyes. "If you didn't want to share, all you had to do was say so."

Loki smirked, 'She thinks I am lying, oh the irony.'

The rest of their meal was spent in silence. Every now and again Lovi would glance at Loki, and vice versa.

'She is not uncomely,' Loki found himself thinking as he stole glances at her, 'for a Midgardian woman that is. She is no Freyja, but her skin is a nice color, her breasts are shapely, and her hair would be the envy of the Lady Sif.' It was her eyes that made him take notice. They weren't wide and innocent like the women of Asgard that he had mooned over, and they weren't sultry like the eyes of Freyja and her followers. They were a mystery. Kind, to be sure, but under the kindness was a beast. If it wasn't for her eyes, she would be completely common looking. And her hair and hips. He had never seen a Midgardian with such long hair, or one with such wide hips in proportion to the rest of her body. She was built for birthing sons.

Loki shook his head. He was an Asgardian prince and she was a common Midgardian woman. The thought was disgusting. He was still lost in thought when Lovi stood and began clearing the table. He watched her for a spell before thanking her and retiring to his room, where he was reminded that he still had no bedclothes, and ended up retracing his steps to the kitchen.

"Miss Lovisa, would it be too much trouble for you to spare some bed clothes?" Loki asked with a smile plastered on his face.

Lovi looked up from the pan she was scrubbing and snorted. "No problem. They're in the linen closet. Same as the custodial closet; top four shelves, and all the sheets are the same size. I would offer to help you, but I can't reach them." She smiled and returned to her scrubbing.

Loki opened the closet and moaned internally. All the sheets were floral printed, and the blankets were old patchwork quilts; not fitting for a prince of Asgard. He would need to find more suitable bed clothes tomorrow. He walked into his room and dumped the sheets and quilt onto the bed. 'Still no pillow…' Back to the kitchen he went. She was done scrubbing and now the dishes were drying while she was wiping down the table. Loki cleared his throat.

"Yes, Prince Mishkin?" Lovi said without looking up.

He was taken aback; she was making fun of him. No one had ever dared jape at the Trickster God. "I am still in need of a pillow."

She placed her rag on the sink to dry and ran upstairs. She reappeared a minute later carrying a pillow almost as big as she was.

"Lucky for you I collect pillows, so I always have extras," she said handing him the overstuffed piece of bedding. He stood there for a second staring at her.

"Is there something else you need…?" Lovi asked, crossing her arms.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, it says in the contract that you will take care of everything on the first night. You have yet to make my bed," Loki smirked, and Lovi laughed outright.

"You're kidding, right?" she chuckled.

"I most certainly am not," Loki said, handing her the pillow. She looked as if she were about to explode again, but she just closed her eyes, and when they opened she had a smile painted on and murder in her eyes.

"When you're right, you're right," she said sweetly, taking the pillow from him and walking to his room.

'This is going to be more fun than I could have imagined,' Loki thought as he watched her contort over the bed, stretching her little arms and legs as far as they would go to stretch the sheet onto the mattress. Once the bed was done she bowed, mocking him.

"Will there be anything else, my Lord?" Lovi asked; her voice sickeningly sweet.

"That will be all. You are dismissed," Loki replied, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

Lovi stalked out of the room and closed the door behind her. He heard her scamper up the steps and shut her own door, then soft plops as she removed her clothes.

'More fun than I could have imagined,' he thought as he undressed and climbed into the bed. When his head hit the pillow he noticed that it didn't smell like the sheets and blanket did. It smelled sweet and spicy at the same time. 'She even smells paradoxical.' Sleep was something else mortals were prone to, and as such he soon slipped into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

Lovi awoke the next morning to the chirping of her phone. She had a message from each one of her friends stating basically the same thing, 'Who is your new roommate?' She sighed and shut the phone, pulling her blankets up over her head; she needed more sleep. The previous day had worn her out, and she was past thinking that she had made a mistake in choosing her new roommate; she knew she had. He was arrogant and conceited, and a little too charming for his own good.

'He's a homosexual Brad Austin,' Lovi thought as she pulled herself from her nest and began making her bed. The sunlight streaming through the window kept her from crawling back into her cocoon. She glanced at the clock in her room and smiled; it was only nine seventeen so her morning was still useful. She walked to her bathroom, turned on her shower, and brushed her teeth while the water heated up, then she hopped in and let the hot water beat upon her face. She reached for her shampoo bottle only to remember it was empty and cursed; she would need to go shopping. As she scrubbed her body, an amusing thought occurred to her, and that thought was that she seemed to collect gay people. She wouldn't say friends, as Loki was no friend, but she definitely surrounded herself with more homosexuals than heterosexuals. She wondered if that was the reason his family had kicked him out; because he came out and they couldn't accept it. She smirked as a more likely thought pushed itself into her mind.

"They probably kicked him out because he's a Prima Donna as well as a huge jerk," she said to her loofa. She turned off the water, opened the glass door, and began to towel off. When she was dry enough to clothe herself, she poked her head out of the bathroom door to make sure the coast was clear, and then scuttled into her room and locked the door. She pulled on her panties and bra as quickly as possible, and then pulled on a pair of comfy jean shorts and an old t-shirt. His Royal Pompousness could take a walk; she did what she wanted on the weekends. After tidying up her room a bit, she scooped up her laundry basket and ran down the steps, through the kitchen, and into the basement. It was dark and dreary down there except for the room built over in the far corner. It had been Brittany's room, but it had been vacant since she moved out. Her Drum and Bugle Corps poster still hung on the door. Every time she saw it, a wave of sentimentality crashed into her, but it was her same sentimental nature that kept her from throwing it away or taking it to Brittany. Lovi stared at the room as she sorted her laundry and threw it into the washer. She was sure if she went into the room right now there would still be splinters on the floor from countless rim shots gone awry, as well as a few broken drumsticks. She shook her head and walked upstairs, and her phone began buzzing in her pocket. When she checked her message she was relieved to see it was from Lindsay.

'Chris and I just dropped the music off in your mailbox! Thanks again for doing this! I owe you big time!'

A smile broke out on Lovi's face as she shut her phone and started toward the mailbox; new music was always a good thing. She opened the mailbox and pulled out the manila envelope, shut the small door, and cracked the seal as she walked back inside. It was all works by Felix Mendelsohn, arranged for a small string ensemble; from Elijah to A Midsummer Night's Dream.

'No surprise there,' thought Lovi as she settled into her practice room. She opened her violin case and pulled out the sweetest sounding instrument she owned, rosined up her bow, and began rifling through the music before settling on A Midsummer Night's Dream. Lovi brought the violin to the crook between her neck and shoulder, and pulled the bow across the strings. The first four chords were supposed to represent the sun breaking over the horizon and the forest waking up, and then the music became quick and erratic, while maintaining the same soft volume as the first for measures; but it was when Oberon and Titiana made their entrance that made Lovi's heart swell and blood begin to pump. She missed a fingering here and there, and when the Young Lovers made their entrance, her interpretation was too slow by ten beats per minute at least, but she made up for it when Puck and Bottom entered the story, taking that part too fast. It wasn't a bad first run through, but she had to admit it sounded odd with just her part. She turned on her metronome, flipped back to the beginning and started again.

Loki awoke with his hair matted and drool dried on the side of his face to the sound of Lovi practicing her violin. Rubbing his eyes he tumbled from the bed as his feet caught in the sheets and his elbow smacked the nightstand.

'Someone will pay for that today,' he vowed as he cradled his elbow. His stomach began to gurgle and he grimaced; the need to relieve himself had been another surprise mortality had bestowed upon him. He stood and made his way toward his bathroom, shut the door and began the less than kosher process. It puzzled him that he smelled no sizzling meats, or eggs, or any food at all. Suddenly the music stopped and he heard tiny, hurried footsteps above him. He finished his business, washed his hands, and walked into the kitchen to find Lovi sitting at the table writing out what looked like a list. There was no food in sight and it was already noon. He watched her write for a minute before she acknowledged his presence.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," she said without taking her eyes away from the paper.

She was mocking him again. For his own sake, he ignored it.

"Where is the first meal?" he asked, feigning politeness.

"You mean breakfast?" Lovi replied. Looking up from her list, she pointed at the refrigerator. "The fridge is right there, Mr. Odinson. There's cereal in the cabinet if you don't feel like cooking anything."

Lovi zeroed in on the look he was giving her; disbelief, she would call it.

"You didn't think that I would be making breakfast for you, did you?" Lovi asked, astounded. Loki straightened his posture, about to argue his defense, when Lovi went on.

"Because after last night, you're lucky I'm even speaking to you. The way you treated me is no way to treat anyone. I am your roommate, Mr. Odinson, not your maid or your servant." She went back to writing her list, signaling the end of the lecture. Loki's disbelief turned into disgust as he stood and began to examine the cabinets looking for the one labeled 'cereal'. Once he found it he pulled out a brightly colored box with a large beaked bird, sat down at the table, and began to eat the brightly colored o's from the box.

"Oh for god's sake, are you serious!" Lovi exclaimed, grabbing a bowl, a spoon, and the milk and set it in front of him. "There, happy now?" Loki just looked at it. Lovi snatched the cereal from his hands, poured it into the bowl, added milk, and shoved it at him. "Do they not have cereal where you come from, or are you just that dim?"

Loki stood, towering over her, but she didn't balk from him.

"As a matter of fact, Lovisa, no they do not." Loki's voice was dark and commanding. "Furthermore, I am accustomed to being waited on hand and foot and you will do well to remember that! Am I making myself clear?"

Lovi took a deep breath to keep her from slapping him. When she opened her mouth to speak again, her voice was so low, Loki almost had to lean in to hear her.

"Let me make myself clear," Lovi said, grabbing a handful of Loki's shirt and pulling him inches from her face. "I am not your maid; I am not your mother. I am not your servant; I am not your slave." Her voice rose with each sentence. "I am not your personal chef, I am not your chauffer, I am not your nanny, and at this point I am not even your friend! I am your roommate, and you have done a terrible job with your first impression!" She let go of him and began to walk up the stairs, taking her list with her. He heard her shuffle around for a moment before her tiny feet pounded the stairs once more and when she reached the bottom she had donned shoes and was carrying a fish. She crossed through the kitchen and into the living room without looking at him once. He hurried after her.

"Where are you going?" Loki asked.

Lovi turned and glared at him. "Shopping," was her monosyllabic response.

"Wait, I need things!" Loki ordered. Lovi stopped in the doorway.

"Like what?" she breathed.

"Bed clothes, and soaps, and bath perfumes," Loki counted out the list on his fingers for her.

"Hmm….how about you grow a pair and get it yourself!" she slammed the door and left him standing in the middle of the room.

Loki rubbed his temples and walked back into his room.

'That is not how one plays nice,' the little voice in his head mocked.

'Maybe I will starve on Midgard after all…' Loki thought. '…or the woman will poison me.'

Lovi stalked down the street steaming, and people made a point to stay out of her way. She must have looked a mess, huffing and puffing in her shorts and t-shirt. She didn't have on any makeup, and her hair was in a messy ponytail but she was so mad right now she didn't care.

'He must have grown up in one of those homes with Man Law attached to it,' she thought, turning the corner onto a new city block, headed for Wal-Mart. 'There's no other explanation! I hope he doesn't treat everyone this way, and woe to him if he ever speaks to me that way again there will be hell to pay! If it's a roommate war he wants, it's a roommate war he's got! If I can't get rid of him, I will make his life a living hell!'

When she got to Wal-Mart, she grabbed a cart and got to work, seething the whole time. Once she got about halfway down the list she began to soften.

'It was just the way he was raised. He probably thinks that I'm a bitch because I won't baby him and I speak my mind,' she thought. 'He's wrong of course, but he needs to realize that he was raised wrong, and me telling him isn't going to help with that.' She tossed her Aussie in the cart, and then tossed some Axe in too.

'He still needs sheets,' the little voice at the back of her head gnawed at her. 'And soap, and ten to one he doesn't have deodorant.'

She grabbed her body wash along with the matching Axe body wash and dumped it into the cart along with some men's deodorant. The more she thought about it, the more things she realized he probably needed. She grabbed a toothbrush, toothpaste, loofa, sheets, a comforter, pillows and pillowcases, razors, hairbrush, shaving cream, and a change of clothes. Even this morning he was in his dress clothes and she had the sneaking suspicion that they were all he had. A pair of jeans and a tee might do him some good. She also grabbed a three pack of boxer shorts, a pack of socks, and a pair of sneakers. Once she had all the perishable goods in the cart, she headed to the checkout. One hundred forty-three dollars and seventeen cents later she was back in her home unloading the groceries into the fridge and cabinets. She could hear Loki scuttling around his room, probably too afraid to come out. She didn't blame him. Mr. Bounds hadn't given her the name Latin Fire for nothing. The shopping had taken longer than she had anticipated. It was already four o clock, and she still had so much to do. Once the perishables were unloaded, she ran downstairs to process her laundry, and then back to shoving food into cabinets. Once she was done all that was left were Loki's things. She sighed, grabbed the bags off the table, and made her way down the hall.

'This is not an apology,' she thought, 'it is a peace offering.'

Lovi came to Loki's door and knocked. The movement inside stopped briefly before the door opened slightly. Loki looked at her warily before asking what he could help her with. No sneer, no snide comment. He seemed…beaten, for lack of a better term. Lovi held out the bags.

"This is a peace offering," she said, locking eyes with him. "I'm not sure how you were raised, and unless you want to talk about it, I don't care to know, but this is obviously a learning experience for us both, so let's make the best of it and learn from one another. I am going to give you one more chance to redeem yourself in my eyes, okay? If you take these bags, it means that you are agreeing to be friends, and friends don't expect one another to play maid, okay? We are nice to our friends and don't try to trick them, okay? Are you ready to try again? One more time, once?"

Loki nodded, and Lovi presented the bags to him.

"Hi, I'm Lovi; would you like to be friends?"

Loki took the bags from her tiny hands and felt his heart swell. After all he had done, she hadn't given up on him. It was more than he could say of any of the Aesir. She was stubborn, and more than a little scary when provoked, but he had a feeling that provoked was the operative term. It would be nice to finally know friendship.

"Yes. Yes, I would very much like that," Loki said; his smile lighting up his face.

Lovi let go of the bags and shooed him into his room, instructing him to be in the kitchen in ten minutes. He retreated and began to sort through the bags. She brought him bedclothes, all black, and pillows, soaps, and a toothbrush and toothpaste, some fluffy blue object, and what seemed to be a change of clothes. He unfolded them and winced. They were common; not to his taste at all. Denim pants and a soft black shirt, socks, and queer shoes; he would look just like a Midgardian male. There was still something else in the bag, and when he pulled it out he almost blushed. The woman had bought him small clothes. He stared at the package for a moment before tearing it open and stripping off his own attire. It may not be a style he was accustomed to, but it was clean, and after four days in the same clothes, not even a cleansing spell could make them feel less grungy. After he changed he strode into the kitchen to find Lovisa waiting in a small, flowery apron.

"How do I look, Miss Lovisa?" Loki asked, striking a haughty pose, as he had seen Thor do so many times.

Lovi laughed and tossed him an apron; plain white, thank the Allfather.

"You look comfortable; and just call me Lovi, everyone does," Lovi smiled and sat down in a chair. "This is the learning part. After this morning I'm going to guess you have no idea how to cook, right?" Loki shook his head. "That's what I thought. Alright, tonight begins your lessons on self-sufficiency. I'm going to sit in this chair and tell you what to do, and you're going to do it, understand?" Loki nodded. "Good. Now, let's begin. For dinner, you will be making oven fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli." And then Lovi began to give directions, and Loki began to follow them, something he was new to completely. In the end, the chicken was a little dry, and the broccoli too soggy, but the potatoes were perfect.

"This is very good Loki," Lovi said after swallowing a bite of chicken. "I'm very proud of you."

Loki almost dropped his fork. "Thank you," he stared at his food.

After dinner, Lovi cleared away the dishes and began scrubbing while Loki watched. The cleaning didn't seem as hard as cooking. She wiped down the counters and the stove, and then put all the dishes in the strainer away. When she turned around she jumped and let out a squeak.

"I didn't know you were still there!" she gasped, holding her chest.

"I am very sorry," he chuckled, "I did not mean to frighten you."

"It's alright," she said, touching his arm, "I know you didn't mean it. Now what can I help you with, my friend?"

"Well, you bought me new bed clothes, but I really cannot say I know how to put them on," Loki said. Lovi cocked an eyebrow. "That is to say," Loki went on, "maybe you could teach me."

"Sure!" Lovi exclaimed and hooked her arm through his. She only came up to his chest, just below the sternum, so Loki was once again bent over in a comical fashion. Ten minutes later Loki's bed was ready for habitation and Lovi was scampering up to her own bedroom where sleep would be welcomed as an old friend. As she stripped down and climbed into bed, she sent out a mass text to all her friends who had asked, 'Who is new roommate?', and it read, 'His name is Loki Odinson and he's 100% gay! He was a little questionable at first, but I think this is the beginning of a wonderful new friendship.' Then she crawled under her blankets, turned out her lights and let sleep take her.

**Sorry that took so long everybody, I have been busy with school. If you want any of the recipes from this story, just ask and you shall receive.**


	6. Chapter 6

Loki awoke to the sound of strange noise he could only guess was music, thumping, and an overly enthusiastic male voice. He glanced at the window; still dark.

'Who could be visiting at such an hour, and making such a racket?' Loki wondered as he slipped silently from his bed and toward the door. He eased it open and snuck down the hallway and into the living room. What he saw there confused and frightened him.

Stuck in the box across the room was a tiny man running and jumping around the screen, and there was Lovisa in ill-fitting garb jumping and running along with him. Multiple thoughts were running through his head, all centered on her seeming loss of sanity. He edged toward her until he was within an arm's length.

"Miss Lovisa," he said as he grabbed her shoulder. She shrieked, whirled around and punched him square in the jaw. Loki stumbled backwards, clutched his jaw and sneered at her.

"Oh dear god!" Lovi exclaimed rushing over to him. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay!?"

"I should hope that you are sorry," Loki spat, falling into the couch still clutching his jaw. The cheery man was still jumping around in the box. "I will be fine. What in all of the realms would possess you to hit me?" His fingertips were itching to teach her a lesson.

'Perhaps a day as an insect would be a fitting punishment,' he thought, but before he could aim Lovi had pried his hand away from his face and was touching it softly.

"I didn't mean to," she said gently prodding his jaw, "it was instinctual. You shouldn't sneak up on people like that; it's not good for your health. There's nothing broken, but it's going to swell. Stay here, I'll get you an ice pack."

Lovi hurried to the kitchen and back with some ice in a small bag and wrapped in a towel. She touched it to his cheek; he winced and drew away from her. She grabbed the back of his head to keep him from fleeing further and put the ice on his jaw, where it was already starting to swell.

"I know it hurts, but this will help, just keep it on there," Lovi said putting his hand on the ice. "Again I'm really sorry, Loki. I have to finish getting ready for work, can you manage yourself?"

Loki grimaced, "I believe I said I will be fine. Just what were you doing out here? You are covered in sweat and smell horrendous."

"Exercising," Lovi said turning off the television. Loki was glad to see the little man disappear.

"Where I am from, women tend to leave sweating to the men," Loki said turning to head back to his room.

Lovi laughed and shook her head, heading upstairs to shower and dress herself.

Once he was back in his room, Loki sat on his bed and ran one hand through his hair while clutching ice to his jawline with the other. His hair was full of tangles. He realized he must look like a mess. He stood and strode over to the full length mirror on the back wall of his room and groaned. He was in nothing but his small clothes. He sank back onto his bed and fell into the pillows cursing; somewhere in the night sky nestled among the stars was Asgard, and on Asgard he knew Heimdall was watching. He hoped against hope that he would tell no one what he just witnessed. He let out a sigh and touched his jaw; it stung. He had had worse from Thor, and much worse from Dr. Banner, but he had never been struck by a woman and he hadn't expected it to be so forceful.

'This mortal body is so very weak,' he thought, trying to console himself, 'and its weakness has dulled my reflexes. I will not be bested by a woman again, much less a Midgardian woman. Midgardians were made to be ruled, not to best gods in combat.'

The thoughts of ruling Midgard soon became dreams as Loki dozed off, and his ice pack hit the floor.

Lovi teetered down the stairs in her heels and A-line skirt as carefully and quietly as she could. Her fist still ached from punching her new roommate, but he, by far, had gotten the short end of the deal. Lovi was no fighter, but she could defend herself. She was lucky he hadn't been a real attacker, or else things would have ended much differently. She tiptoed down the hall to Loki's room and eased the door open. He was spread eagled on his bed snoring softly. The ice had fallen on the floor and his cheek was bruising and swollen. She knelt and picked up the ice, brushing his arm lightly as she stood. He was freezing, more than any living human being had a right to be. Being the nerd that she was, her mind immediately flitted toward the zombie apocalypse, but she shooed it away. That was absurd. Her roommate was fully functioning; she was probably just a little warmer than normal. She grabbed the comforter, pulled it up to his chin, and exited his room. She dropped the ice pack in the sink before stepping out of the house and hopping into a cab.

It was almost a relief to step through the doors of the bank. She was always punctual and having the routine of the work day made her feel a sense of normalcy she hadn't felt since Noel announced that she was moving out. She slipped behind her desk and got to work. Three loan appeals later her mind began to wander and her phone began to buzz right on cue. It was Lindsay again.

'Just got off the phone with Pepper Potts and I have news you're going to want to hear. Meet me for coffee after work?'

Lovi checked to make sure the coast was clear, and then put her thumbs to work.

'Can't, I have a lesson tonight. Call me at work?'

Lovi shoved her cell phone back into her purse right as her work phone began to ring.

"Hello, this is Lovisa De La Garza, how can I help you?" she said into the receiver.

"Can't you just skip your lesson tonight?!" Lindsay practically shouted. "This is really important!"

"No ma'am, I'm afraid I can't help you with that. I never cancel meetings," Lovi kept her end professional, just in case anyone could overhear her side of the conversation.

Lindsay sighed, "Fine. Our flights and hotels for the Stark Expo won't be comp'd until after we perform. We will get two checks in the mail, one is our payment for our performance, and the other is compensation for our traveling and lodging fees."

Lovi blinked and her professionalism abandoned her. "You're kidding, right? How much are we talking about here?"

"The flight alone is three hundred dollars, and that is coach and not counting baggage fees, which we are sure to have!" Lindsay was hitting panic mode. "Hotels, good hotels that is, where our instruments won't be stolen, are upwards of one hundred fifty dollars a night; a night, Lovi!"

Lovi's brain felt like she was swimming in molasses; her senses were dulled, her brain was shutting down and she was sinking. This was a once in a lifetime chance, and they were going to have to cancel. Lovi had enough in her savings account to field the costs no problem, but she had very serious reservations about dipping into those funds. Chris and Lindsay would be fine; his parents would most likely pick up the tab. Sage, the cellist, was never want for funds, as she always had an older man to take care of her; and Hayden, the first viola, came from old southern money. The only person left was Eldon, assuming he was going, and he had made a small fortune acting in theatrical productions. Everyone was accounted for except her.

"Lindsay, please don't panic," Lovi soothed, "I will come up with the money somehow. I'll just get a second job."

"It's not that!" Lindsay sobbed. "I know you can get the money. It's bigger than just the sextet now! Mr. Stark has a friend that loves jazz, apparently doesn't understand any other kind of music, and the Expo is on his birthday, so Mr. Stark wants us to bring a jazz band as well as the sextet or the deal is off! Even if you count you, Chris, Eldon, Sage, and me, we would still need two trumpets, four trombones, a bass trombone, two tenor saxes, two alto saxes, a guitar, another pianist since I haven't played jazz piano in years, and a drummer! That's a lot of people, Lovi! And a lot of equipment! How am I going to do this?! The Expo is in January! January!"

Lovi rubbed her temples; it was just too much too soon.

"I still have everyone's names and numbers from our college jazz band, I'll send you the list and I'll talk to Bounds about borrowing our old jazz folders so that we don't have to practice all that often. The folders have roughly seven hours of music in them, so we should be set there. It will all be okay Lindsay, calm down."

Lindsay sniffed, "Am I going to have to talk to Mark?"

Lovi rolled her eyes, "Yes, Linds, you're going to have to talk to Mark. It's been almost a decade since you guys broke up, you will be fine."

"But I cheated on him a lot," Lindsay whined, "and then left him for Chris! How awkward is this going to be!?"

"No more awkward than the day afterward when you sat between the two in class," Lovi reminded her. "I reiterate you will be fine; now I have to get back to work. I just emailed you the list, so start calling and Facebooking. Bye Linds."

Lovi hung up the phone and laid her face on her desk. In four days her life had become more complicated than it had been in the last two years combined.

'Just another manic Monday…' she thought as she lifted her head from her desk and got back to work; first on the agenda, calling Aaron Bounds.

Loki awoke for the second time that morning wrapped in a cocoon with his face throbbing. He grimaced as he freed himself from his trappings. Sunlight was streaming through the windows and the sounds of traffic from outside were a good indicator that he had once again slept more than he had intended. Mortality was interfering with not only his reflexes and strength, but also his internal clock. He stripped of his small clothes in the bathroom and climbed into the shower, turning on the water and letting it hit him in the face. He hadn't bathed in three days, usually unheard of for the Asgardian prince, but he had been very busy as of late sneaking into his home and pilfering objects from his room that he couldn't do without; things like books, the less extravagant clothing that no one would notice missing, and the vials of readily made potions that he kept in his study. Sneaking into Asgard unnoticed was a feat in itself, but it left him weary in his mortal form. His foster father saw fit to revoke his immortal rights, but his mind and magic were left untouched. As he scrubbed himself he wondered if this was how Thor had felt during his exile, but the thought died in his head as he remembered that his own exile was already longer than Thor's had been, and during his exile he had had a woman fawning over him at every turn. The only correlation between the two exiles was the presence of women, though Loki hardly thought that counted. Thor's woman had done almost everything for him, and mooned over him. His roommate had made it perfectly clear that he was to be self-sufficient. As for the mooning, well she had seen him in naught but his small clothes this morning and hadn't even batted an eyelash; no blush crept into her dark cheeks, any embarrassment into her smoldering eyes. Then his genius mind put it all together; she liked women. Loki laughed out loud as the ridiculousness of it all washed over him like the hot water of the shower. It all made sense now! She was immune to his charms because she liked women. He was worried he might have been losing his touch, becoming soft in the cranium; or as Volstagg had so cunningly put it, his silver tongue had turned to lead. He scrubbed the grime out of his hair as his thoughts continued. It was so unfair! Naturally Thor would fall into the arms of a beautiful, well-tempered woman, while he was thrust into the arms of a lesbian harpy who knew not her place. He rinsed, stepped out of the shower and swaddled himself in a fluffy towel. He began to make his way back to his room when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His jaw was swollen, his beautiful alabaster skin marred with a patchwork of black and blue. He was almost ugly; almost. He raised his hand to face and made a wiping motion; nothing happened. He tried again and still nothing. He stared in the mirror horrified. Either his mortal form didn't have enough power for healing spells, or they just didn't work on Midgard. He moved swiftly to his bedroom and donned his apparel, then moved to his potions. He had multiple potions for inflicting harm on one's enemies, but not a single healing potion. He moved to his books, rifling through the pages until he found what he needed. He skimmed the list of ingredients; a few could only be found in the royal garden on Asgard. He threw the book in his fury. He refused to look like this! Lovisa would pay for her insolence, one way or another. A loud 'thunk' sounded behind him followed by the laughter and jeering of children. His fury momentarily forgotten, he looked outside his bedroom window into the courtyard behind the house. There were three apparatuses swarming with children, and another group was running around kicking a ball. He hurried to the kitchen and rifled through the list of emergency numbers Lovisa had left him until he found her work number. He picked up the phone, dialed, and was partially relieved (partially annoyed) to hear her voice on the other end. She sounded tired.

"Hello, this is Lovisa De La Garza, how can I help you?"

"Miss Lovisa," Loki started, "there are children running amok in your courtyard, what should I do with them?"

"Courtyard…?" Lovi sounded a tad confused. "Loki, they're just the kids from the neighboring buildings. School just let out, and I let them play back there until their parents get home. They're fine. Leave them alone." She was quiet for a moment. "What are you doing home at this time of day anyway? When do you leave for work?"

It was Loki's turn to be silent for a moment.

Lovi sighed, "If you don't have a job you had better get one by the end of this week, Loki, or the contract is null and void. Don't forget about the chore chart, I'll see you when I get home….god damn it."

Loki stood there with the phone in his hand taking in what had just transpired. The woman who had punched him in the face now wanted him to gain employment. He put the phone back on the receiver and flicked his wrist, inciting a cleansing spell upon the entire house.

"I would bet money Thor never had to clean, or get a job," Loki grumbled as he retreated to his room with another ice pack for his face.

Lovi arrived home extremely tired and worse for wear to a spotless home. She was so surprised she almost dropped her fish. The man could clean! He couldn't cook, he couldn't do his own laundry and he was a huge brat, but he could clean. She checked behind the fridge; he had even cleaned there. Maybe it was a guilty conscience; not having a job could do that to a person. She deposited her fish on the table, pulled open the fridge, pulled out a whole chicken, and set to work quartering it by the joints. After the chicken was quartered she dropped it into a huge pot filled with water sitting on the stove, and began dicing carrots, celery, onions, and leeks, then added them to the pot along with bay leaves, parsley, thyme, pepper, garlic, and salt, turned on the burner and set the lid in place.

"What are you making tonight?"

Lovi jumped out of her skin and almost turned the pot over. She whirled around and clutched her heart.

"You would think," she said, brown eyes boring into emerald, "that after this morning you would have learned your lesson. Speaking of which, your face looks terrible. Have you had ice on it at all today?"

"Oh, I definitely have," Loki smirked, ignoring the remark about his face, "and that lesson is 'be quicker'."

Lovi rolled her eyes. The silver tongue was back. He was dressed more casually today than he had been when they first met, but he still held an air of regality. It looked like he showered too; his hair was definitely less greasy and he didn't smell like an over ripe clove of garlic cloaked in cologne. "I'm making chicken and dumplings for dinner, I hope that's all right, my liege."

He chuckled and a smug look dominated his features. "You jest now, but you will feel silly once you come to terms with the fact that I am actually royalty."

"Oh, but your highness," Lovi sang, and dipped into a curtsey, "you seem to have relinquished your title. What shall you do now!?"

"And what title would that be exactly?" Loki crossed his arms and smirked. Lovi straightened up with a wry smile painted on her lips.

"Prince of the Land of Stench!" Lovi smiled and bowed. Whether she was amused with herself or mocking him further he couldn't tell. Once more his fingers itched, and once more he was interrupted; this time by a knock at the door. Lovi gave him one last look and bounded to the door. Moments later she returned with a small girl, no more than eight or nine, who was carrying a rectangular case almost as big as she was. At the sight of Loki she darted behind Lovi's skirt and blushed.

"Don't be scared, Madison," Lovi soothed, coaxing the girl from behind her, "this is my new roommate, Loki Odinson. Go ahead and introduce yourself."

The girl was still clutching onto Lovi's skirt as Loki stared at her like she were a two headed dog. She was a cute child, all limbs accounted for, large inquisitive blue eyes, honeyed hair, and porcelain skin with just a hint of pink in her cheeks.

'She would fit in on Asgard better than I ever did,' Loki thought as Madison was asking Lovi what happened to Noel.

"Noel went to live with her husband, sweetie," Lovi said, pushing her toward Loki, "we've been over this. Now go on."

Madison walked forward, her cheeks pink and her little legs shaking as she extended her hand.

"Hello Mr. Odinson," she mumbled, "my name is Madison Rose Elizabeth."

Loki bent to one knee, took her tiny hand a brushed it with his lips. "It is very nice to meet you Madison," Loki smiled, "you have a very beautiful name."

Madison's face turned bright red and she squeaked, running back to the safety of Lovi's skirts. Loki laughed and straightened himself.

Lovi gave him a look, grabbed Madison's hand and brushed passed him moving toward the stairs.

As they climbed the stairs Madison turned to Lovi and giggled.

"Is he a prince?" she asked as they entered the practice room and took their seats.

Lovi sighed as Madison pulled out her trumpet and looked at her expectantly.

"He sure seems to think he is."

"My mommy says that if men and women live together and they're not married they'll go to hell," Madison said in a tone that suggested that what she had just said was the same as saying, 'there are three states of matter.'

"Okay, that's enough of that," Lovi said, flipping through her student's folder to the long tones. "Begin your warm up."

An hour later Lovi and Madison were making their way to the door. Madison's lesson was over, and it was time for her to go home and for Lovi to finish dinner. When Madison stepped out, she turned to Lovi with a pained look and said, "Even if he is a prince, you'll still go to hell. I don't want you to go to hell Ms. De La Garza."

Lovi knelt down to the girl's level and straightened her jacket.

"Loki and I have a special understanding. We are just friends and God will understand, okay?"

Madison nodded, but still looked unsure. Lovi was sure she was going to get a phone call from her parents later.

"Good, now don't forget to practice. I'll see you next week Maddy."

"Bye!" she called, and she was hopping down the sidewalk to her mother's waiting minivan.

Lovi stepped back inside and hurried into the kitchen, opened the pot and began fishing out the bones and skin, putting the latter into Specs' bowl, and began fishing out ingredients for the dumplings. She was just about to grab the stool to reach the flour when Loki sauntered in.

"Oh good!" she exclaimed, letting go of the stool, "can you get the flour for me?"

Loki grabbed the bag and handed it to her, then pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

"So," he began as she was mixing the flour into the rest of the dough, "what was all of that about?"

Lovi began to drop spoonfuls of the dough into the boiling stock.

"I teach private lessons on the side from my job as a loan officer," Lovi said replacing the lid on the pot. "At twenty five dollars a lesson, it isn't a bad gig. Dinner is almost done; it has maybe five minutes left."

"Yes, I heard a little music, but it was softer than I expected," Loki said.

"The room is soundproofed," Lovi replied as she took the lid off again and stirred; Loki's mouth watered. When he was permitted to return to Asgard, he would have to bring this woman.

"Okay, it's done," she said turning off the stovetop, "Grab a bowl."

Loki stood, served himself and sat back at the table. The contents of their bowls steamed and Lovi began to stir hers to help cool it.

"What was the child saying about us going to hell?" Loki asked, a smile dancing on his lips. Lovi shifted uncomfortably and snorted.

"Madison comes from an extremely religious family," Lovi explained, "and because of this, she is convinced that we are going to hell. Then again, she is also convinced you're a prince. Speaking of that, what was the chivalry thing about? I didn't think you had it in you."

Loki was a tad taken aback; of course he was chivalrous, he was a prince of Asgard.

"I was raised to kiss the hand of the maiden fair when being introduced to her, whether she is a child or adult, it matters not."

Lovi speared a dumpling, chewed it, and then swallowed. "You didn't kiss my hand when we met."

"I said I was raised to kiss the hands of maidens fair," Loki laughed and took a bite of his supper. It tasted just as it had smelled; delicious.

Lovi's mouth hung open for a second before she erupted in laughter.

"That was a good one, man!" she chuckled as she balled up her napkin and threw it at his face. He caught it and smiled at her.

"Consider it a payment for the 'Land of Stench' comment from earlier," Loki smirked and tossed her napkin back at her. She was an enigma; professional one moment and entirely opposite the next. Dressed in finery one day and what could only be described as Midgardian grunge the next. She was more interesting than any of the Aesir, but maybe that was because she accepted him. He took another bite and almost melted.

"Lovisa, all joking aside, where did you learn to cook like this?"

Lovi dabbed her lips with her napkin and cleared her throat.

"When my grandmother was still alive, she ran a catering company," Lovi explained. Her eyes glazed over and she slipped into the past; Loki listened intently. "She was really old fashioned; raised me to be a bit of a parlor sitter. She taught me how to cook, clean, dance, sew, and crochet, and she also taught me the finer points of being an early twentieth century lady…or late nineteenth century."

"What exactly does that mean?" Loki asked, confused. Midgardian history wasn't a strong point of his.

"You know, 'speak when spoken to', 'ladies are meant to be seen not heard', that sort of garbage," Lovi answered, spearing another dumpling.

Loki smiled, "Forgive me, but I don't think that the lessons took too well."

"Hardy-har," Lovi mocked and took a sip of water. "That's because my aunt refused to let me become some mindless Stepford wife. When she moved in with us she basically deprogramed me and reminded me that it was important to express my opinion and be myself."

"If you do not mind my being so bold, where are your grandparents and your aunt now?" Loki asked. His bowl was empty and he was tempted to scrape the bottom to get the remnants of the broth. Instead he opted for a sip of his own water.

Lovi broke her eye contact and stared at the table.

"They're dead."

Loki almost choked. It was not the answer he had been expecting. He had more questions, but he felt maybe he should leave them for later…or never.

"I am so very sorry, Miss Lovisa," Loki tried to console her. Her eyes were still glued to the table; he could see them glistening with tears. Suddenly she looked up and smiled, wiping her eyes.

"It's fine, you don't need to apologize," Lovi said, picking up her bowl and putting it in the sink. "It was going to happen eventually. After all," she locked eyes with him, "we're only mortal. No one lives forever."

Loki felt guilty. He would live forever, assuming he ever made it back to Asgard, and assuming no one murdered him. He put his own bowl into the sink. They were standing a foot apart. Their height difference more than apparent as he looked down at her; she began to run the water and moved to grab the sponge. Loki snatched it away from her.

"I believe it is my night to do the dishes, Miss Lovisa," he began mimicking her scrubbing from the night before and she made a grab for the sponge.

"Nonsense, you did all the chores on the list today, even the ones on mine! I owe you."

"Please," Loki looked into her eyes. He couldn't hypnotize people to do what he wanted, but his sorcery made his powers of suggestion almost lethal. "Allow me to finish my chores for the day. You should go rest. Once again, I am sorry for what I said; I hope you will forgive me."

Lovi looked at him surprised, but she wasn't going to argue the point any further.

"Loki, there really is nothing to forgive, you didn't know. Good night, Loki." She turned to walk up the stairs, rounding the corner.

"Miss Lovisa," Loki called after her. She stopped and poked her head back around the doorway.

"Yes?"

Loki cleared his throat, "If you should need me, for anything, you know where I will be."

Lovi smiled and continued up the stairs. Once he heard her door shut Loki let out the breath he had been holding, dropped the dishes into the sink and introduced another cleansing spell into the kitchen. He put the pot of supper into the fridge, turned the lights off and walked to his bedroom, where he stripped into his small clothes and climbed into bed. He still had so many questions for the woman. 'Why were you raised by your grandparents?' 'Where are your parents?' 'How did your grandparents die?' 'How did your aunt die?' He could always snoop when she wasn't at home to find out, but he had the sneaking suspicion that somehow she would know her privacy had been violated. No, he would just have to be patient and bide his time. If he were more like his brother he would be able to charm the answers out of her, then charm his way into her bed; or he would be able to if she wasn't a lesbian. The questions paraded through his head as he drifted off to sleep. As sleep dragged him under, the voice in the back of his head sounded once more.

'She is built for birthing sons.'


	7. Chapter 7

**To anyone still reading this fanfiction, I'm sorry to have been so flaky. I couldn't afford my internet bill last month, so I've been disconnected. I am proud to say I could afford it this month and unless school interferes, you shall not be wanting for reading materials.**

The next few days were hectic for both Loki and Lovi. In addition to her Tuesday and Wednesday lessons, Lovi was emailing back and forth with both Lindsay and Aaron Bounds. Lindsay was still on the verge of a meltdown, as some of their old jazz band members just flat out couldn't participate, and Aaron was reluctant to let them use the books.

"Look, Lovi, you know I would love to, but the music in those books came as payment for an old jazz gig that the band played in the nineties; lending them out wouldn't be right," Aaron said over the phone after Lovi had initially called.

"Right for what?" Lovi questioned, "The University's credibility, or the copyright?"

"Well, both Lovi," Aaron answered, sounding stern. Lovi rolled her eyes.

"Don't you give me that, Aaron," Lovi argued, doing her best to keep her voice down and keep it calm. "You know as well as I do that all of the music in that folder came from a jump drive of copied music. Giving away music that doesn't belong to you or acquiring music without payment to the composer is a form of fraud and definitely theft, would you agree?"

"Well, I-" Aaron stuttered.

"So that throws out your issue with the copyright, and the fact that the University was paid with stolen music should throw out your issue of credibility, yes?"

Lovi listened to silence on the other end of her receiver. She knew Aaron couldn't object now. She almost felt sorry for her former professor; he had had no chance against her. A desperate Lovi was a determined Lovi, and he should have remembered that. Lovi jumped as her ears were suddenly filled with Aaron's booming laughter.

"I should have remembered not to play with Fire," Aaron said, still chuckling slightly. "I'll send you the file via email, okay Lovi? God, what a blast from the past! You sounded just like you did when I first met you eight years ago; I was sad to see that Lovi go."

"Well, we all have to grow up sometime, right Mr. Bounds?"

"No, Lovi," Aaron answered solemnly, "You had already grown up when I first met you…what you did was change completely."

"Thanks Aaron, I'll keep that in mind. I need to get back to work now; I'm looking forward to getting that music, bye." Lovi placed the phone on the receiver and held her head in her hands for a few minutes before returning to work. On Wednesday the email came, along with a new set of problems. Lindsay was having another meltdown about the Stark Expo, and Loki still hadn't found a job, despite how hard he had been looking. He had no problem getting interviews, and his silver tongue seemed to win over the employers, but as he had no marketable skills or past experience, employers refused to hire him. They always apologized profusely, saying they would love to have him and to apply again after he gained a bit of a job history, but no one was willing to take a chance on him. Friday was his employment deadline, or he was evicted, and with only one interview left, he could not blow it.

When Friday morning rolled around, Lovi rolled out of bed like every other morning and was surprised to find Loki awake as well. He sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of Fruit Loops in front of him looking worse for wear. She glanced at her reflection in the window, thanked Mother Earth that she had remembered to put on a robe, and then retrained her gaze on the man in front of her. He was in a typical early morning daze, spoon frozen halfway to his mouth and staring at nothing in particular.

"Good morning, Mr. Odinson," Lovi sang as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Loki returned to reality with a start and almost dropped his spoon; Lovi snickered. He had been less entitled the last few days, but only slightly. "You're up awfully early for an interview."

Loki groaned and ran his hands through his hair.

"They scheduled it early," Loki yawned, "and said that if they hire me I can start today."

Lovi took a sip of her coffee and slid into the seat opposite him.

"Good for you! It's about time someone hired the Prince."

Loki met her gaze and lifted his spoon to his lips; his gaze was almost lethal, but Lovi understood that his bark was much worse than his bite.

"It is too early for your taunting, woman," he said as he removed the now empty spoon from his lips. "Besides that, I have not been hired yet."

Lovi stared at the man across from her and sighed. He seemed worried, and with good reason, but it was really showing. His eyes were rheumy with large bags underneath them, his hair was a tangled oily mess, and he was still slightly bruised from their rendezvous.

"Well, you certainly don't look ready for an interview…please tell me you're going to clean up," Lovi said.

Loki looked like he had been smacked.

"And what exactly is wrong with the way I look, Miss Lovisa?"

Lovi stood up and removed the mirror from the wall, handing it to Loki. He glanced at himself for a second before it seemed to sink in, and once it did he snatched the mirror from Lovi's fingers while his eyes grew as big as dinner plates.

"I was going to go out into public like this!?" Loki all but screeched, and then turned on Lovi. "You were going to let me go out like this!?"

Lovi bristled and snatched the mirror back, restoring it to its former position on the wall.

"If I was going to let you go out like that, I wouldn't have said anything, Your Highness," Lovi mocked, flicking him in the forehead. "Now do you want help or not?"

Loki grabbed her hand and leaned into Lovi until their faces were almost touching; his eyes were on fire, and Lovi couldn't help but shiver at his touch…he was still freezing, just as cold as the other morning.

"Do not ever do that again, Miss Lovisa, or you will regret it"

"Loki," Lovi started, "If you want my help, I suggest you let me go and apologize right now." Loki sneered and dropped her hand.

"Now help me," Loki said, turning on his heel and striding toward his room.

Lovi rolled her eyes, put his bowl in the sink, pulled the mint extract from the spice cabinet and followed him. "Not until you apologize."

"I will not, I believe we are even," Loki answered as Lovi rounded the corner into the bathroom and turned the shower on cold. She then opened up his shampoo and body wash bottles and emptied the contents into the two bottles evenly; the boost from the caffeine and the cold water would perk him up and help keep his awake, as well as give his hair some extra volume.

"Fine, whatever, just get in here," Lovi shouted over the water as she spread mint extract on her index finger.

A moment later Loki entered the bathroom in his boxers and Lovi attacked him. In one fell swoop she had slathered the mint underneath his nose, handed him his shampoo and body wash, and was out the door.

"Wash your face last so that the mint has time to work its magic," she called over her shoulder as she darted up the stairs to get herself ready.

Twenty minutes later she was showered and toweled off trying to decide what to wear. She eventually settled on a simple black dress with a red belt to accent her waist and her black suede pumps, brushed her cheeks with powder and her lashes with mascara, combed through her hair and teetered downstairs with her old theatre makeup box from college. Loki was just finishing toweling himself off when she knocked on his door.

"Come in," Loki called as he wrapped his towel around his waist.

Lovi opened the door and teetered in, dropping the box on the bed, and then shoving him onto the bed as well.

"Sorry for the rough treatment, but I'm late and I need you on my level so I can work on you," Lovi said, pulling different concealers out of the box and holding them up to his face. Once she decided on the perfect one, she unscrewed the lid and began applying it to Loki's bruise.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Loki sputtered, pulling away.

Lovi grunted and grabbed the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his wet hair to keep him from moving. "Fixing you. Just deal with it, you'll thank me later."

Loki struggled some more, but Lovi was determined to finish what she had started, so she pulled his hair to show him she meant business. After that, Loki was somewhat complacent, but Lovi knew she most likely had hell coming her way. Once the bruise was covered up, Lovi untangled her fingers and took a look at Loki. The bags under his eyes were gone, his hair was clean and voluminous, and the caffeine had woken up his skin, making it grow tauter.

"You're looking much better already," she said, grabbing his brush and running it through his tangled locks. It was his usual hairstyle, but because his hair was larger and cleaner than usual, it just plain looked better. Once she deemed his hair and face acceptable, she ran to his closet and began leafing through his many outfits until she found the suit he had been wearing the day they met, pulled it out of the closet and laid it on the bed next to him.

"Now, get dressed and I'll give you one more inspection before you leave," she said, grabbing her box and hurrying out of the room. Kicking off her shoes she ran up the stairs, tossed the box onto her bed, grabbed her anti-frizz serum, and ran back down the stairs just as Loki was stepping out of his room. Without saying a word she grabbed his scarf and yanked him toward the floor. He made a few choking noises as she pumped the serum into her hands and assaulted his locks, pushed them back into place, and then released him from her hold, where he continued to sputter as she grabbed Ponyo, slipped on her heels, and then bid him adieu and good luck as she ran out the door and hopped into a cab.

Work provided little relief for her today, her only solace being that it was Friday and she could sleep in tomorrow. Her mind buzzed with unanswered questions and unwanted scenarios as she slid behind her desk, prompting a quick shake of the head before settling in and turning on her computer. Her work load of the day appeared light, but as a loan officer she knew that scheduled appointments were never the only appointments she had. There were always walk-ins, emergency meetings, and the occasional loan officer meeting in the board room; she dreaded those the most, as Brad Austin always found a way to slide in next to her even though he was supposed to be presiding over the happenings.

Her first appeal came at nine o' clock sharp, and was immediately declined.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pinciatti, but I can't in good conscience give you this loan," she apologized. Mr. Pinciatti had just gotten out of prison for the fourth time in ten years for fraud, and he looked the part. His hair was slicked back with grease, his smile was slimy, and he dressed too fine for a man who needed a loan, prompting a belief that he was part of the Italian Mafia.

"Well, why exactly not?" he asked, leaning forward in a slightly threatening manner.

Lovi refused to let on that she knew more than she was supposed to; that she was making inferences, so she played dumb and stuck with the plain facts.

"Well, sir, your income ratio to debt ratio is the main problem," she fibbed, meeting his eyes with her own. "The bank would be at a very high risk lending you the money, as your debt to income ratio suggests you wouldn't be able to keep up with the payments." She filled her eyes with false remorse and changed her body language to convey distress, only slightly. "I understand that you really need this loan, but with the interest added on afterward, well…I just don't want to put you into a hole you can't climb out of. I'm not in the business of leaching every last cent from innocent people, I'm in the business of consultation and caring, and my advice to you," she looked around to make sure no one was listening, gestured for him to lean closer, and whispered, "try Wells-Fargo. Their interest rates are lower and their loan requirements more lax."

She sat back in her chair, and he mirrored her, stroking his mustache and thinking for a moment before he extended his hand and bid her good day.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't work something out, Ms. De La Garza, but thanks for the tip," he said, turning and leaving her cubicle.

Lovi let out the breath she had been holding, slumped into her chair and buried her face in her hands before she heard a 'thunk' accompanied by soft clapping. She slowly unburied her hands to find the Golden Boy sitting in the chair opposite her with a smug smile clapping away.

"You never cease to amaze me, Lovisa," he said, halting his applause and leaning in toward her. "Lovely scent you're wearing today, what is it?"

"Soap, Mr. Austin," Lovi answered, straightening her paperwork on her desk; just looking at him made her slightly angry.

"Really? That's all?" he said, inhaling. "It smells…spicy, yet sweet, just like you, I suppose. I've never met anyone whose smell reflects their personality, or someone with such long hair; I don't think I've ever seen it down. What's the occasion?"

"I was running late and didn't have time to put it up," Lovi answered. She knew she was being rude, and that he was only trying to be nice, but he irked her. He couldn't take no for an answer; but in his defense, he usually got what he wanted as the vice president of a bank that his father owned.

"Well, I guess I should be thankful for that then. It gives you an ethereal look; much easier to approach you," he said taking a moment to flash his award winning smile. "Anyway, I was just making the rounds on official business when I saw you tackle that loan appeal; very impressive the way you handled that mobster. I don't think he'll be back to do us any harm, the way you handled it."

"Thank you, that was what I was aiming for," Lovi answered, thanking whatever force was paying attention that he was back to professionalism. "What business did you need to speak with me about?"

"Oh, yes, thank you," Brad said, standing up and gesturing at something or someone Lovi couldn't see. "I wanted to introduce you to our newest teller, but I have a feeling that you already know each other."

And suddenly Loki was standing in front of her with a look on his face that she couldn't quite place; his own award winning smile plastered on his face.

Loki extended his hand shook hers for a moment before Brad began to speak again.

"I wasn't going to hire him initially, but once I saw his references, one in particular really, I said 'I can take a chance,' and besides that, all of the other tellers already love him. You know what they say," he said, turning to Loki, "'Every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man.'"

Lovi shook her head a bit, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of working with Loki.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Austin, who did you say his references were?" Lovi asked, dreading the answer.

"Well, he had a few people that I have never heard of, and no job history, but once I saw your name on his reference sheet, I knew he would be a good worker," Brad said, and patted Loki on the back.

Lovi sat dumbstruck at what she had just heard. It made perfect sense that Loki would use her as a reference, but in doing so he had endangered her credibility; if he messed up, she could lose her job. As the reality of the situation sunk in, the room began to spin, and was only stopped by Brad Austin bringing her back to the present.

"…Lovi…? Hello, Ms. De la Garza…?"

"What, I'm sorry?" she responded, turning her attention back toward her boss.

"I asked if it's true that you and Mr. Odinson live together," Brad replied, with a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, it's true."

"Inter-office relationships are frowned upon, Mr. Odinson, and I'm afraid it could hurt your chances of being hired here," Brad said, turning his attention to Loki. I seemed to Lovi that inter-office relationships were only frowned upon if they did not involve Mr. Austin himself. Just then Loki burst into laughter.

"You need not worry about that, Mr. Austin," Lovi laughed, brushing tears away from his eyes. "I'm not exactly her type."

"Yes, and he's not mine," Lovi added, letting out a snort of derision. "Don't worry, Mr. Austin, we're just roommates; nothing is going on that is even close to what you're implying."

The smile returned to the Golden Boy's face when he realized that Lovi and Loki were not romantically involved.

"Well, alright then! Good! I think we're done here," he said, winking at Lovi, and then turned to Loki. "Come with me, Mr. Odinson, and we'll get you settled in, and your training started.

As they walked away, Lovi couldn't help but feel that she had sealed her destiny, and as the day wore on she kept kicking herself through every appeal. It was nothing short of madness that Loki would gain employment at her bank, and it began to eat away at her very being. Every time she walked past the teller's counter she saw him laughing and smiling with the other tellers; the women all mooning over him. She had an urge to tell them they were wasting their time; that they simply didn't have the right equipment to hold his interest. Upon her return from her last stroll around the bank, her phone 'pinged' and she fished it out of her purse; it was a text message from Daniel.

'Hey, meet us at the Hole tonight at 6:30! Jazz night!"

'Ping'

"P.S. Declan has been asking about you!"

'Ping'

"P.P.S. Bring the new guy!"

Lovi laid her head down on her desk and almost began to weep. She would go, but she wouldn't be happy.


End file.
